Criminal Among Us
by Carlough
Summary: AU. Gibbs' team ends up with a teenage criminal as a new team member. This is how they learn to deal with each other and with her past. And her friends from her old team aren't letting her go without a fight. Some OCs; okay lots of 'em.
1. Thief

**Okay, this uses my same Alec of Hell, Michigan, but only in personality. This is how Alec ends up working with Gibbs' team, which they all fight against. Only Vance appears in this chapter though, because I had to write it quickly. I'm still doing Hell, Michigan(Supernatural fic) and There Will Be Vomit(Bones fic), don't worry (If you've evn read them). Anyway, Alec is a criminal and ends up getting a deal to work with NCIS, read to find out how. PLEASE READ!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or it's characters, CBS does. I do own Alec and people you don't know.**

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'Oh, crap'

was all Alec could think, again and again.

_'OhcrapOhcrapOhcrapOhcrapOhcrapOhcrapOhcrapOhcrapOhcrapOhcrap OH CRAP!!!!!'_

She was supposed to just grab the painting, cut it out of the frame, and run, like Boss had said.

He hadn't said 'Get your ass caught by various federal Agents.' which seemed to be what she was about to do.

Alec didn't want to come back empty-handed, so she grabbed the painting which she'd already cut from the frame and shoved it in the case she'd been given.

Ignoring the sirens she'd set off, 16 year old Alec Broekhart started towards the back of the mansion where she'd entered through a hole she'd personally made in the in-door terrarium.

Darn rich people and their need to buy the most obscure exotic animals and devote an entire room to them!

Just as she entered the extremely humid room, taking care to step over some strange species of snake, she heard a loud shout.

"NCIS! Federal Agents! Drop your weapons and hands above your head!"

'_WAIT-NCIS!? Why would they be here!? I didn't do anything involving naval officers, let alone kill one!'_ she thought as she complied to the agents orders.

'_Boss and the guys will NOT be happy to find out how deep I got myself in this time.'_

_NCIS Interrogation Room_

"What's your name?" Special Agent Sanders asked.

No response.

"Why were you at the Perry mansion?"

Nothing.

"Who do you work for? Where are your parents? Who are your accomplices?" the questions were being fired off much more quickly now.

"Why did you kill this man?" the agent said while passing an ID photo of an officer to the girl on the opposite side of the table.

"WHAT!?" the girl exploded at him, making him step back slightly.

"Who the HELL said that I ever killed ANYONE?!" she shouted as Sanders tried to regain his composure.

"W-We found you at the Perry mansion, and Sergeant Perry was just killed two d-days ago." he said shakily. "You were there, so-"

"Dude. Did you pay any attention AT ALL to what I was even DOING there?!"

"Well, it appeared that you were stealing a painting, and we thought you might have killed Perry to get it." Sanders knew he'd be in trouble for saying that, but the girl was making him nervous.

"That thing is nice, but not worth killing for! I can honestly say I've never killed anyone in my life!"

"Well how should we know that if we don't know who you are?" Sanders asked.

"You know what?" the girl said, "I'll spill. What do I have to loose?" she laughed without humor.

Sanders looked at her eagerly.

She took a breath "My name is Alecxis Broekhart. My parents left me on the streets as a kid. I have no family. I'm a criminal, but I have NEVER killed anyone, and I really don't like you. Now go and send me off to jail."

"Wait." said a new voice, and a man walked in to the room. "I think I have a better idea for where you can go. You see, I've been thinking of getting some idea of what goes on in the head of a criminal from an actual criminal, and you fit the bill. Not a murderer, technically a ward of the state, and no where to go. How would you like to be a Federal Agent on one of my top teams?" Director Vance asked.

"WHAT!?!" Sanders and Alec shouted simultaneously.

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**If you review I promise to continue! Probably will anyway, don't know.**


	2. Like You

**Allright, this is more the length that I like my chapters to be, or a little longer. This story is probably gonna jump general perspectives a lot, just so you know. Please forgive me for any plot discrepencies, and please review!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, they all belong to The Great Tiffany Network, CBS (Ah, Thank You Craig Ferguson). I do own Alec and anyone you don't know.**

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"No."

That was Gibbs' only response to Vance after being told that he was to take on another team member.

But of course it couldn't just be any probie.

No, it had to be a teenager. And not just any teenager, but one whose idea of a government background was her rap sheet. Which was apparently pretty extensive, and was probably even longer in reality, but most of the crimes they couldn't pin her for.

"Gibbs." Vance said "I wasn't asking you to take on a new agent. I was telling you that you ARE taking on a new agent."

"Yeah." Gibbs replied. "One who's not even an agent. Hell, she's not even legally an adult! Plus she's a criminal. We would have no way to tell if we could trust her or not."

"Just meet her. I think she may be more like you than you'd expect." Vance said tiredly.

"And how exactly is a thief like _me_?" Gibbs retorted.

"She checks all exits and weapons as soon as she walks in to a room-"

"To see where to run off to when she's caught doing something illegal." Gibbs cut in.

"She appears to be extremely intelligent for her age, knows how to fight,"

"To assist in breaking and entering." Gibbs grumbled.

"She appears to have a firm sense of right and wrong, if you can forget the thief thing, as she showed when she almost gave Agent Sanders a coronary when he accused her of being a murderer,"

"Because all thieves are just _so_ moral."

"And she's lonely and without a family." Vance finished triumphantly.

Gibbs stopped walking momentarily, to process what he was being told. So, because his family had been killed, and he'd come to consider his team, especially Tony, as a makeshift family, that meant that he'd just take in any sob story the director could find?

"Didn't you say she was part of a group?" he asked flatly.

"Well, yes, yes she was." the director replied. "And they're all apparently close, or at least loyal, as she stated quite clearly many times that she'd spend her life in prison before giving them up."

"There you have it." Gibbs said. "Kid's got herself a family."

"Yes, if you can call them that, but she's just that, Jethro. A child. We don't know if she has had any form of supervision in her life, past that of someone she just calls Boss."

"Crime lord whose name she doesn't know?" Gibbs guessed.

"No, I believe she's protecting him as well. She speaks of him as if he's a good person, a great leader." Vance answered.

"Yeah, well that's how most psycho cultists think of their leaders." Gibbs retorted.

"She's actually quite sane, at least by government standards. We brought in some specialists to analyze her, and they all agree that she's perfectly fine, mentally." Vance concluded.

"Oh? Then why does she insist on being a criminal?"

"She doesn't _insist_ on it, actually, from what we can tell, the group she was with has had it kind of rough, and they stole to survive, they just picked larger targets than most."

"I can see that." Gibbs muttered.

"Just talk to her. Or at least see her. You have to stop being so judgmental. You know, 'Don't judge a book by its cover.'?" Vance said.

"Except for when the book's cover tells you all you will ever need or care to know about it." Gibbs responded.

"Well, here she is." Vance said, pointing over his shoulder to a door with a window in it, where a young girl could clearly be seen inside, tapping her fingers on the table to the beat of some song Gibbs had never heard.

"You're dismissed Agent Sanders." Vance said to the nervous looking agent posted inside the room as they entered it.

"_Thank God_. Do you know she's been tapping for almost an _hour_? It's been driving me insane. Who knows _every_ note of _that_ many songs?" Sanders said incredulously as he exited.

"People that actually _listen _to music." the girl muttered almost incoherently to herself.

Gibbs just stared at the girl. He knew she was young, 16, but that still hadn't prepared him for the teenager in front of him.

She had long black hair, down to about the middle of her back, and olive/forest green eyes.

She also had scars- A LOT of scars. THAT he hadn't been told about.

Most were small, almost impossible to see, but they were there. Most only a centimeter or less in length, they were on her hands, her forearms, and a few on her face, one above her eye, one near her right ear, and some spanning her jaw line.

'_How does a kid get scars like THAT?_' Gibbs asked himself.

"You done staring or should I set up a fee?" the girl said.

"Let me introduce everyone." Vance said. "Gibbs, this is Alec, or Alecxis Broekhart. Alec, this is Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Your new boss. You'll be working with his team from now on."

"Oh, lovely." Alec muttered, and Gibbs decided that maybe they were alike in one way- both of them didn't want this arrangement.

Gibbs had already made a plan of action- he would annoy the crap out of this girl and make her life a living hell until she finally decided to quit or get a transfer. And in the mean time, he would live up to the second 'b' in his name-the one that stood for bastard.

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**PLEASE REVIEW!**


	3. Meeting the Family

**All right, no new reviews for the last chapter, but oh well, I shall continue. Though for how long, I have no idea.... So here's chapter 3, reviews would be greatly appreciated!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, they belong to CBS. I do own Alec, and anyone you don't know. And a quote in here belongs to Red vs. Blue, it is more properly labeled at the bottom.**

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'Wow, this is gonna suck.' Alec thought. Gibbs was thinking basically the same thing, except in a slightly more mature manner. _Slightly._

"Would you like to meet the team that you will be working with?" Vance asked her.

'No, not really. In fact, not at all.' she thought, and had to bite her tongue to keep from saying it aloud. Outwardly, she said "Why not? Gonna be stuck with 'em for a while anyway."

"Oh, not that long, I'll make sure of it." she heard from Gibbs' direction.

"Aren't we a bucket of sunshine?" Alec muttered back at him.

"Aren't we?" he replied.

The director stayed completely oblivious to this entire exchange.

Walking in to the bullpen, Vance stepped aside and moved his arm in a flourish.

"Broekhart," he said "Welcome to the bullpen, where you'll be working. And these." He gestured to Gibbs' team. "Will be your coworkers."

Gibbs made a slight growling sound at the word, which the director _did_ hear, that resulted in the two glaring at each other like no tomorrow.

"Who's going to be doing what?" Tony asked, getting up from his desk.

"Ah, Agent DiNozzo. Broekhart, this is Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, the team's senior field agent. DiNozzo, meet Alecxis Broekhart." Vance made introductions.

"Tony." Tony smiled as he amended the introduction.

"Alec." She replied back. "And I swear if you ever call me Alecxis, I will beat you over your head with you own skull."

"It _is_ your name," Vance said confusedly. "What do you have against it?"

"The fact that no one knows how to pronounce it without sounding it out, and then they put an emphasis on the 'c', so they say it as 'A-leh-cah-sis'. And trust me, the mauling of your own name is not pleasant." Alec replied.

"That's not physically possible…" Tony muttered, still thrown off by her threat.

"Oh, trust me, you do _not_ want to say that." she cut him off.

"So why are you here?" Tony asked bluntly.

"If you would all stop interrupting me, I could tell you," the director said. "But first, find everyone else; I only want to explain this once."

So Gibbs, Director Vance and Alec had to wait while Tony ran around the floor, grabbing Ziva and McGee and dragging them over, then racing off to go round up Abby and Ducky.

"I brought them for good measure." he panted when he'd finished his task.

"So, what's the big news?" he asked after he'd caught his breath.

"Everyone," Vance said to the assembled group, after he'd introduced them all to Alec. "This is Alec Broekhart. She's going to be working with you."

That statement received many confused looks from the team.

"Are you, like, some kind of child genius or something?" McGee spoke up. "And if you are, why would you be given a government job? Unless, you're either older than you look and are really an adult, in which case I profusely apologize for assuming that you were a child, it's just that-"

Alec just watched, smirking, as McGee manage to fluster himself without any assistance on her part, then responded "Dude. Calm down. I'm 16, you were right the first time, well, not really, but sort of, in that no, I'm not an adult, and I'm _technically_ not a federal agent, and this entire situation confuses me, too."

"How can a child work with us?" Ziva questioned.

"I resent that generalization." Alec said.

"You just said that you were a child." Ziva defended herself.

"No," Alec retorted "I said that I was not an _adult_. I said nothing about being a child, and I resent being referred to as one. And if you dare make some comment about youthful teenage rebellion, I will personally kick your ass." The last line was aimed at Tony.

"This is so cool!" Abby exclaimed. "I mean, we're going to be such good friends, I can already tell. Look, we even dress similarly!" She gestured first at her own classic Abby-goth ensemble, and then at Alec's clothing, which was namely all black, with a lot of zippers, down to her combat boots.

"Trust me; you won't think it's so great to have me around in a sec." Alec grumbled.

"Well why not?" Abby said, looking confused.

"Because the only reason that NCIS was involved with her is because she's a career criminal." Gibbs supplied smugly.

Alec only had to glance at the group to tell that they were definitely _not_ expecting _that_ as the answer.

'I knew I shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning.' she thought.

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**'Kay, everyone. The 'Beat you over the head with your own skull' thing belongs to Red vs. Blue (gotta love that) by Rooster Teeth Productions if you've never heard of it before. I'm planning on the next chapter showing more of Alec's past-and possibly from the people that are in it......Want to know what I mean? Review and I'll tell you by way of writing the next chapter....SO REVIEW!!!:)**


	4. Alone

**Sorry for taking this long, I've been really busy with the holidays and all! By the way, Happy (belated) Holidays! Now, this chapter is written mostly from Abby's POV, she's actually very fun to write from. Also, Gibbs is very, very mean and Abby decides to set him straight. And so you know, a lot of my ideas about Alec's group are inspired and based off of the books Thieves Like Us and Thieves Till We Die by: Stephen Cole. I'm kinda sad that there's no fanfictions about them, those are some awesome books! I might make it a slight crossover with them from Alec's group's end, I've got a perfect way to do that, it depends on how I feel. Ayway, here it is!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS, CBS does. I do own Alec and anyone you don't recognize, including her gang.**

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The NCIS agents gaped at Alec after hearing this revelation, save Ducky, who if he was shocked, he was very good at hiding it.

"What did you do?" Abby asked, being the first to regain some composure. "I mean, you couldn't have killed someone if you were offered a place a NCIS. Whatever you've done can't be THAT bad, right?" she said hopefully, because she truly did not believe that the girl was a bad person who would consciously try to do someone harm. Well, not _too much_ harm. But hey, even Gibbs got a jolt from harming some people; whenever he shot someone bad he always seemed slightly happier afterwards.

Alec opened her mouth to respond, and was again cut off by Gibbs when he said "She's a thief."

Abby shot Gibbs a glare; she was going to have to yell at him for that later. She hadn't known this girl for very long, but she knew that Gibbs also hadn't known Alec long enough to have done something to warrant this level of hostility.

Gibbs, ignoring Abby's glare, continued "She's part of a group of criminals; they steal under the radar, most likely from only from people who won't call the police afterwards because they have enough illegal affairs going on as it is. Namely, rich tycoons and billionaires with too much time on their hands, am I right?" He looked at Alec, one eyebrow raised slightly.

Alec again started to speak, but was cut off, this time by Vance. "You mean she _was_ part of a group of criminals, Gibbs. She's working for us now."

"Is." Gibbs and Alec responded at the same time, and Alec elaborated "I haven't gotten much say in any of this, but I'll tell you now that I'm not going to stop being part of the group just because of this…._unfortunate_ situation. If someone shows up for me, I'm telling you, I'll go without a backwards glance."

"How do you know that _anyone_ will come back for you?" Gibbs said in a quieter, sneering tone. "Has anyone in your little group ever been caught before? No, I'm guessing that you're the first. That leaves the question, who, if _anyone_, will come back for you. Hell, who _wants _you back?! From what you've said, that group is made up of people like you, criminals off the streets. I bet you that your boss could easily go out and get your replacement just like that." He snapped his fingers, and moved his face closer to Alec's. "And you know what else? I bet he's already replaced you. Because, if you haven't noticed, you're a criminal, and criminals don't have loyalties, or morals or codes of honor. And to their boss, there's one thing they're definitely not: indispensable."

Abby watched this entire speech in horror. How could he say something like that? She could see the worry and hurt become more and more evident on Alec's face, though Abby could tell she was working very hard to hide it. She guessed that Gibbs had just voiced some of her fears, and now Alec was really wondering who would care. Abby found she was outraged. Didn't Gibbs know what low self-esteem teenage girls had?! And, criminal or not, no one, _no one_, deserved to be talked to like that! She decided to give him a piece of her mind.

"Gibbs!" she shouted, surprising everyone in the room, including Alec, who had been lost in thought. "Come with me! NOW!" she barked, and turned on her heel and stalked off towards her lab, not waiting to see if he would follow.

He did, while Ducky, even though he hadn't known the girl long, could tell that she was just a child inside, one who craved any symbol of caring from another human being, and so he put his arm around her and helped the now slightly trembling girl in to a chair, and told her everything would be okay, that Gibbs hadn't meant it, while Tony, recognizing a kindred soul, tried to salvage his boss' reputation somewhat in Alec's eyes, telling her that Gibbs could be a bastard sometimes, but he was good at heart, and he couldn't have really thought what he'd said. Ziva just stood there uncomfortably, not completely sure what to do, but feeling sympathetic towards the girl, as did a very shell-shocked McGee.

Once they reached her lab, Abby pulled Gibbs inside, slammed the door shut, and locked it. Then, turning on a very confused Gibbs, she shouted "What the HELL is wrong with you?! What did she do to you to ever deserve that? She's a 16 year old girl, who yeah, joined up with a group of not-so-good people, but that doesn't make _her_ a bad person. Maybe thievery is the only way she could get by in life. Hell, maybe it's the only place she found that she could fit in! She was dumped on the streets by her parents, did you ever think of what that could've done to her? Knowing that the two people in the world who were supposed to love her unconditionally didn't want her anymore and decided to just get rid of her, and then finding a group of people who wanted her to be with them, maybe even cared about her. And here you are saying that they're not going to care that she's gone, that no one will? You basically just told her that nobody in this world gives a damn if she's even ALIVE! You practically told her that she was a piece of garbage on the foot of the world, and that she shouldn't be around! Gibbs, you might've well just told that girl to go die." Abby said, and breathed deeply, attempting to calm herself.

Gibbs just stared for a moment, and then said calmly "Maybe her parents did care for her, what if they just couldn't afford to take care of her, Abbs." He was surprised when Abby lifted her head to see that she now had a tear running down her face.

"Then why would they leave her _on the streets_, Gibbs?" she asked sadly. "Why wouldn't they take her to a shelter, or a family member, or Child Protection Services? If they'd cared, they wouldn't have left her to _die_. And you were so _mean_ to her, making her feel worthless. _Why_, Gibbs, _why_ would you do that?" she sniffled.

"I guess I was a little harsh on her." Gibbs mumbled.

"_A little?_ Gibbs, you told her that she was dispensable!" Abby retorted.

"Okay, I was out of line, I'll give you that. But she's a _criminal_, Abbs! One of those people we work to put away!" Gibbs attempted to defend himself, but already he felt that maybe, just _possibly_, he had been too harsh on the kid.

"But she's also a person, Gibbs." And with that, Abby unlocked the door and strode out of the lab to go see Alec, leaving behind an extremely uncomfortable Gibbs.

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"BOSS!" Zannen thundered as soon as he'd picked up the phone. "Boss, oh my God, they got her, they got her Boss, the alarm, it wasn't there last week, I swear we didn't know, they just put it in yesterday, they-"

"Zannen, calm down. What happened? Who got whom? Start at the beginning." He asked, feeling a pit of dread in his stomach; there was only one 'her' on his team.

"Boss," Zannen said shakily. "She got in, just as planned, without a hitch. She grabbed the painting, and just as she was cutting it out, there was this pressure plate in the floor that Cal found was just installed yesterday, by some government group, NCIS, to catch some murderer. Well, we didn't know about it, and she stepped on it, and this alarm went off, and they must have had some kind of jammer, Brendan says, because then he lost contact with her, and then those people from that government agency, NCIS, showed up, and oh God, Boss, they got her! They got Alec!" he said, sounding halfway between grievous and murderous. His boss knew how he felt; he felt the same way.

"Zannen, get the gang, and get back here, I promise you, we WILL get her back." he said, more confidently then he was feeling, and with that, he hung up.

Maxwell Landon sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes wearily. This wasn't supposed to happen! They weren't supposed to get his girl! This was just a small, job, a quite boring one, actually, for a quite boring smalltime client. It was just until something bigger came along, to give the kids something to do! Nothing was supposed to HAPPEN! _He_ decided when things happened, not the NCIS people.

_'And whoever they are, they're going to have Hell to pay for even _thinking_ of messing with something that's mine.'_

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**So they DO care! But how will Alec know? Maybe if you review, the answer may come to you by way of, hmmm, I don't know, the next chapter. Just in case you're wondering, there are about 6 other people on Alec's team, not including her or their boss. Only 3 have been mentioned so far, Cal (Calean), Brendan and Zannen. The other 3 are still to come.**


	5. Regret

**Okay everyone, this chapter is much longer than usual, but I really felt it needed this length. Gibbs and his team aren't in tis chapter, this chapter is all background, but it explains a lot about Alec, so it's very important. Also, there is a very important note at the bottom, so read that, and please, enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS, CBS does (Ha!, none of those people are in this chap! Not even a reference! Okay there's _one_ reference, but it's barely noticable!). I do own Alec, her gang, and anything/one you don't recognize.**

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Alec attempted to compose herself. Showing any form of weakness in public was unacceptable. It gave people ammo to walk all over you, pass you off as a child. She couldn't believe that after all she'd been through, all the shit she'd had to take in her life, that some crap from some pompous, stuck-up, holier-than-thou government agent could break her down like that! She'd been mentally berating herself for the lone tear that had fallen down her cheek ever since it had been formed.

But of the things that he'd said, she wished he'd been making comments about her parents. She'd heard so many in her life, it's not like they really upset her anymore. Her parents were useless drunks, 'nough said. But no, Gibbs _couldn't_ talk about her parents. He just had to voice her worst fears: that her team wouldn't come for her. That she was temporary. _Dispensable._

She'd been wondering about that since she'd first joined Landon's team, 3 years ago. Alec always thought fondly (well, not at first) of her first meeting with the team. Well, what existed of the team at the time, which was Landon and Roland.

_3 Years Ago, in a Small Town in Northern California_

Alec ran down the street, afraid to look back, fearing that her follower would be right there, behind her. '_This isn't supposed to happen in small towns!'_ she thought. Hell, not being stalked down the streets at night was why she chose small towns. And the fact that this town's most recent hard-hitting crimes included speeding and j-walking, that helped too. They wouldn't know what hit 'em.

Except apparently someone did, because they were following her pretty avidly. Plus they were good. Real good. She'd already climbed to the roof of a 3 story building and ran across it, hopping on to the adjacent building and tossing herself over the edge, landing her happily on a street 3 blocks over, where she was _sure_ she'd be safe. But she wasn't. She'd started walking as to not look suspicious, but she really shouldn't have. Because when she turned the next corner, there he was. Or there was someone else working with him. Either way, someone was chasing her.

That's how she'd ended up in her current predicament. Running for her life (as far as she knew) from at least one guy at 2 am on some sleepy costal town in Northern California.

Alec was pretty sure that the guy wasn't government. Weren't they supposed to identify themselves before they start chasing you? If this guy was government, then obviously nobody had ever told him that. Or he was a crooked cop. Not something a person wanted for so many counts of theft she'd lost count, as well as arson, wanted to deal with. Especially because of the arson. What could she say? She was something of a pyro. Not insane, she just liked to watch things burn and blow up. Nothing wrong with that when the places are illegal meth houses and what not. And she always made sure no one was inside first, anyway. And no one ever knew that she'd done any crimes whatsoever. As far as anyone knew, all her crimes were completely separate and unconnected.

With the exception of the guy following her.

_'Maybe it's not because of a crime. Maybe he's just some regular drunken perv, or maybe a serial killer or something.'_ she thought. For some reason, the thought of this guy being a serial killer appealed to her more than him being a fed. She really didn't like feds, even if there was virtually no charge that they had enough evidence to hold her on.

Warming to the idea that the guy was a serial killer, she started to formulate a plan to catch him. Maybe there was a reward….. If there was, she could certainly use it. She was running tight on cash, and a nice sum of money and everyone thinking of her as a hero, throwing them off her trail….that would be nice. But still…..it wouldn't work. Because she obviously wasn't 18, and the cops would ask where her parents were. Then her legal guardian when she said her parents had dumped her. Then they'd call CPC when they found she had none, and it'd be 'bye cash and life'. No, she couldn't turn this guy in.

But she could tell him to leave her the hell alone, or she'd make him sorry he was alive. Yeah, that would work. All she had to do was find him. And to do that, all she had to do was stop running and wait. So she did.

Alec didn't have to wait long, because about 20 seconds later she heard the footsteps pounding from behind her, closer, nearer.

Grabbing her knife from her boot, she timed herself with the approaching footsteps and then spun around, grabbing her stalker and shoving him against the brick wall next to them, knife to his throat.

"Whoa, there darlin', I'd rather not have that embedded in my neck, won't look pretty in pictures." The man says with a thick southern drawl. Not a man, really, he's not that much older than she is! He's 15, tops, but extremely tall, with floppy reddish-brown hair and an easy-going grin. Great. Stalker psychopath high school kid who's not getting any. Wonderful.

"Why were you following me?!" Alec snarled at him, knife pressed against his throat so he could feel it, but it would not cut. Not yet, anyway.

"'Cause the boss thinks that you might be helpful." Great, the kid's a drug mule.

"Tell your boss I work for no one, and I don't do what he's in to." She said angrily.

"Oh really?" he smirked "So you're not the one they call the shadow thief in the crime world, never caught on tape, always steals from criminals? Rich criminals, may I add? You're not the pyro who everyone thinks likes to take justice in to there own hands, blowing up illegal buildings and terrorist warehouses? Really?"

Alec could only gape at him. He knew. He _knew_.

"I don't know what you're talking about." she said, though even she could tell she sounded fake and upset.

"Hey darlin', I ain't trying to upset you there, I'm just as bad as you, in my own way." he said soothingly.

"How so?" Alec laughed with no humor.

"Thief just the same, big marks. Known for tasering people, I believe?" he said, smirking slightly.

"That was you?" Alec said, awestruck. His endeavors had made as big waves as hers had in the underworld.

"Yep. And if we wanna get down to business here, I'd like to ask that you remove you knife from my jugular, if that's not too much to ask."

She did so, but kept her knife out, asking warily "What business?"

"The business of you joining my team." said a voice behind her with a slight lilt. Scottish maybe?

'_Ha, I was right, there ARE 2 of them!'_ She mentally pumped her fist in victory.

Turning, she saw a man who was probably in his early to mid-thirties, in an expensive looking business suit. _'To deal with business.'_ She smirked at her own bad pun.

"Roland, I thought I'd taught you better manners than to just stand there." He said amusedly to the boy, and then turning to Alec, he said "I'd like to apologize for his behavior, he's like a puppy, he learns through repetition."

"Hey!" the boy, Roland, said indignantly, but was ignored.

"Like you heard me say," the man continued "This is Roland Loch, and my name is Maxwell Landon, though you may call me Max or Landon if you prefer, and you are Alec Broekhart. To get right down to things, Roland and I are involved in similar endeavors to yourself, and I would like you to join my team."

"Team of who?" Alec asked, looking around to see if she'd missed anybody.

"You would be the third member, the first two being Roland and myself." Landon said. "I have been watching you for some time now and believe that we could all benefit from this partnership. I am planning on others joining us, others in similar fields of work." Roland snorted at the term 'work' being used to describe what they do.

"Lemme get this straight," Alec said. "You're putting together a team of teenage criminals, by the look of things, and you want me to join so we can help you steal stuff. Did I miss anything?"

"No, I think you've covered everything." Landon said pleasantly.

"How do I know that I can trust you?" Alec said raising an eyebrow warily.

"You don't." Landon smirked.

"You can join my fold, where you'll have all of the most advanced equipment; access to the highest facilities, and never need to want for most anything ever again, or you could stay here wondering the streets at night. Alone." He added, knowing that would hit her and make her think about his offer.

"And there would be ample room outside to blow things up." He threw in, and seeing the way her eyes widened in delight, he knew he had a deal.

"Welcome aboard!" Roland said, happy to finally have a friend (in the making) his age. "Trust me, you won't regret this!"

_Present_

Alec would never forget that night, that night that head changed her life. And she knew then, without a doubt, that someone would come for her. She would never regret joining Landon's team.

* * *

**All right, the big news is that I don't really think that anyone is reading, so I'm pulling rank. Check my profile for the definition on that, but basically, and bluntly put, 4 reviews before I do the next chapter. It's not much to ask, trust me, and read my definition so you know a few of the rules to it, please, though reviewin more than once to get done with the reviews is endearing. Just Please REVIEW!!!**


	6. Understanding People

**I'm kinda upset that only one person fulfilled my request, but hey, beggers can't be choosers, right? Though it did teach me that there are only 2 people reading this- my lovely reader _princess moon shadow_, thanks much to you for always reviewing! And the other reader is, well, me. So I really like this chapter. We meet the rest of Alec's team, and Gibbs is a _little bit_ nicer. Now I DID choose to make this a _slight_ crossover with Stephen Cole's Thieves series, but only in mention. I'll explain that more at the bottom once you've read it. Oh, and you don't need to know the books to understand it, really you can just ignore all of that if you want. Anyways, enjoy and please, PLEASE REVIEW!!!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, CBS does. I do own Alec and anyone you don't know.**

* * *

"Alecxis! Are you okay, young lady?" Ducky asked Alec, who in turn blinked a few times in rapid succession and said "Yeah, I'm fine. Just got caught up in an old memory is all."

"_Wow, I _really _must have been out of it! I think he just called me by my real name and I didn't totally rip him a new one!_" she thought, but then decided she'd let him call her by her full name because he hadn't been mocking her and when he said it his accent had managed to make her name actually sound quite nice. She was surprised at how quickly she was willing to allow him to call her by her given name; the only other person she allowed that privilege to was Landon.

"Was it a good one?" Tony inquired, once again drawing her back to reality.

"Yeah, it really was." she said blushing self-consciously. She wasn't used to anyone other than the gang caring about anything in her life, and when she told one of them she'd been thinking of a memory, they were often in it and they'd reminisce on it together. But this wasn't the gang, so she felt abnormally shy all of the sudden.

"What was it about?" Tony asked, wanting to know more about this teen's world. Seeing the way her expression shifted, he could tell it was on a list of 'Things You Don't Tell Feds'.

"Just some of my friends." she said, in a way that clearly stated 'subject closed'.

"I am SO sorry for how Gibbs acted!" Abby broke the silence with her approach.

"He's usually not so mean and terrible, and I don't think-no, I KNOW that he didn't mean any of what he said!" she finished confidently.

"I wouldn't be so sure." Alec muttered quietly.

"Jethro is not as bad a man as he has made himself out to be." Ducky said, trying to defend his friend and explain his earlier actions. "He just takes his job very seriously and is used to arresting….people….like you, and not befriending them."

"It's okay to say 'criminal' or 'felon'," Alec said with a small smile. "Or my personal favorite, 'thief'. It's what I am, and while I wouldn't say that I'm fully comfortable saying that I'm proud of it, I'm not ashamed of it either. We are what we are, right?"

"While I agree with you on that point, my dear girl, I think we'll find that that is one of Jethro's, er, problems with you. You must understand, Jethro won't be so quick to just except that a thief is _how_ you are, not just _what_ you are. No matter your reasoning for becoming a thief, he will still feel that there was always another way out. Though from what you have said you seem to be comfortable with whom you are, and the fact that being a thief is a part of you, he thinks of it the same way one might view an occupation, albeit one that he looks down upon, and that it is the way that you choose to be in his mind."

Alec looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said in a strange accent "Yeah, I could see where he's comin' from on that."

"Excuse me," Tony said with a grin. "But where did THAT come from?"

"The accent?" Alec asked, and when given the affirmative, replied "I have a friend who's southern; in fact I've taken to calling him by his home state, Alabama. I've hung out with him for so long that occasionally I start using his accent. He actually does the same with mine, dropping off the ends of words and sentences. I don't talk with much diction and I slur my words a lot, and he's got more of that slow drawl going on, so it makes for one strange accent when you mix them together."

Ducky, who had been pondering over Alec's reply to his analysis of Gibbs' rage towards her, said "You are a most remarkable young girl for your age. Not many could so quickly understand a point of view that is such a polar opposite of their own. It is quite an odd skill, actually. Odd, but very useful"

"Maybe this is what the director was talking about!" Abby said excitedly. When everyone looked at her confusedly, she sighed loudly and said "He mentioned something about seeing in to the mind of a criminal from an actual criminal, remember?"

When everyone nodded, she said "Well, this is what he was talking about!"

"How so, Abby?" McGee asked, speaking for the first time since Abby and Gibbs' departure, which had been followed shortly after by that of Vance.

"Like Ducky said, she's good at seeing things how other people do. You know, understanding how their mind works, their motivation for doing something, even if it's totally against her, like she understands why Gibbs was so mean to her earlier." Turning to Alec, she said "It _is_ sort of amazing, I mean, you're only 16 and you understand why someone you don't really know hates you, and you're not even mad at him for it! Wait, you aren't mad, are you?" she asked nervously.

Smirking, Alec replied "No, not really. Like you've all said, I can see why he wouldn't like me. He's basically devoted his life to putting away people like me, and to be told to work with one, well, I'm kinda feeling the same way."

Seeing the puzzled looks on everyone's faces, she laughed and said "I mean how I've spent my whole life trying to stay away from government officials and now here I am, suddenly almost becoming one myself."

"This skill of yours, the one everyone keeps speaking about," Ziva said "How did you come across this?"

"Well," Alec began, not used to this in depth analyzing of how her mind worked, and feeling almost embarrassed from the attention. "I think it's all sorta from all the years of, well, being a thief. I know how the people I steal from must feel about me, and I can see why the world doesn't like thieves. When you know someone hates you, you often want to know why, right? Well, I just started thinking of how the marks, er, the people I stole from, felt afterwards, you know, getting inside their heads. After a while, I got really interested in doing that with everyone, finding out why people do things, what they might be thinking, et cetera. And it just kinda went on from there." She finished awkwardly.

It was silent for a while, until Tony broke it by saying "So, what's your favorite movie?"

Everyone laughed, and they all started sharing their own facts about themselves and each other, Alec carefully covering over any information that could lead to the gang, but otherwise being more open with people outside of Landon's team than she'd ever been in her life.

But this happy discussion that everyone had been participating avidly in was soon cut short.

"We have a case. Dead petty officer." Gibbs said as he re-entered the bullpen, a glare on his face. Deciding to ignore the looks his team was blatantly giving him, he added "You heard me! Move!"

The team did, but slowly and hesitantly, and all turned and glanced towards Alec, wondering what it was that she was to do, as Gibbs had taken to ignoring her until Abby elbowed him in the ribs and gestured at her.

"You," Gibbs said with undisguised contempt, "Your friends probably care about you. Now move, you're observing. Touch anything and I'll shoot you myself."

"I'm guessing that's the closest thing I'll get to an apology?" she said, a small smile on her face.

"I don't apologize." Gibbs said flatly, and he walked past her, giving her the feeling that maybe she was wrong when she had just thought that she could possibly get on this guy's good side. She knew he'd only said anything because Abby had prompted him to, but still, she'd been hoping that maybe they could get along. Alec really had no idea when her team would come for her, or how, so she didn't know how long she'd be with this guy, and if she was in for the long haul, she didn't want to spend the entire time fighting. Fighting with coworkers took too much energy.

Gibbs, noticing that she wasn't following, turned around and said, not unkindly, "Come on! Don't want to miss your first big crime scene where you're not the one being investigated."

She allowed herself a small smile and jogged to catch up with him, as the rest of the team had already left. When they reached the elevator, she felt a small slap on the back of her head, not hard enough to really hurt, but definitely enough to get her attention.

"What was that for?" she asked while smiling incredulously.

"You didn't come when I called; don't worry, I'll fix that soon." He replied, a ghost of a smile flitting across his face. If Alec had blinked, she definitely would have missed it.

"Do you always slap people upside the head?" she asked amusedly.

"Just ask Tony to know how often." He told her. "Now hurry up or I'll leave you here!" With that, Gibbs left the elevator, with Alec in hot pursuit.

* * *

"Is everyone here?" Landon asked, looking around the long table at his team, counting heads.

"Not quite." Brendan Maddix said with a smirk as there was a shouted reply "I'm here!" from down the hall.

Panting heavily, Coaden Bale appeared in the doorway, holding on to it for dear life.

"I know," he panted "That we're….in a….hurry….to get…Alec back…and all….but did Lisk….really have to….fly like that? That ride…made me so nauseous."

"Yes, I _did_ really have to fly the plane like that," Zach Lisk replied sarcastically "Because I was just thinking 'Wow, I don't think Code's thrown up enough recently. I've gotta fix that!'"

"Come on, sit down." Ronan O'Neil said, helping Coaden to one of the two remaining chairs. The other wouldn't be filled today…

"All right, stop fighting guys; we've got a lot of crap to go through if we're gonna get Broekhart back." Cal Reeves said.

"Thank you Cal." Landon said to the most senior member of his team- at 21, he was the oldest, though he was third to join the team. After Alec….

"Now Ronan, what can you tell us about the NCIS?" he asked his 16 year old Irish computers and research expert, who was only 2 months younger than Alec.

"Uh, well in laymen's terms, they're navy cops. When Marines or Navy people do something illegal, these guys get called in. They're centered in Washington, D.C."

"Do you know why they were there?" Landon asked.

"Some petty officer, uh, a Sergeant Earl Perry-wow, what a sucky name, anyway he was killed and that was his house, and no one in his family was there that night _because_ he'd just gotten killed."

"Jesus, I shoulda realized that something was goin' down there!" Zannen exploded. He'd been berating himself for letting Alec go in there since the moment things went south.

"Harst," Roland called his friend by his last name, "Don't you think we're all pissed at ourselves for lettin' this happen? But it did, so we're gonna stop dwellin' on who's at fault and work on gettin' Ally back." Rolland finished, referring to Alec by his pet name for her.

"Which is exactly what I plan to do." Landon said. Watching how he let his kids take control of conversations, he had to notice how differently he ran things from his own mentor. Coldhardt always ran everything, and didn't like conversations running off tangent. It was just another way he differed from his old boss.

Forming a plan, he said "Now here's what we're going to do…"

* * *

**Here's the low down on this chapter, some random info on it- Coaden's name is made up, it's pronounced Co-den, the 'a' is silent. Calean's name is real, but I think it's spelled differently from the way I originally saw it, and I personally pronounce it Ca-lin, like Colin with an 'a' instead of an 'o'. Can anyone guess where the name 'Zannen Harst' came from? I don't expect anyone to know, but it's a sort of 'sounds like' name. If you think you know where I made it up from, tell me and if you're right I'll tell you. If no one guesses, we'll just leave it at that because it doesn't really matter. Now the real crossover lies with Coldhardt, Landon's old mentor. In the Thieves books, Coldhardt's team often wonders what happened to Coldhardt's old teams, if they died or were caught or killed or if Coldhardt let them go, or even helped them set up their lives. I'm going with 'set up their lives', having Landon be a previous member of one of Coldhardt's teams, and then in turn making a team of his own. I personallly like it, but if you don't this is the extent of it. Just please review and tell me what you think of it!!!**


	7. Nice Hat

**Thanks for all the reviews, it was awesome! Now, I learned something of late- I can not count. Did anyone else notice that I said there were 6 people on Alec's team besides her and Landon, and then named 7? That's because I think of Brendan and Ronan as sort of the same person, except Brendan is mouthier. I contemplated putting one of them in a coma because I thought I had too many people and I don't want to kill anyone off, but then I decided to keep the both of them. So please don't yell at me that both this Alec and my one in 'Hell, Michigan' are close with 7 guys (brothers in H, M). It was a mistake, but now that they're here they're gonna stay. So there! ;) Now I have a bunch of anonymous reviews to respond to here, which I have decided may or may not be from the same person. Oh well, you know who you are, I'll respond to them all seperately. So here we go:**

**_ipudding_: Thanks, and I try to make the chapters at this sort of length, the first one was done very rushed.**

**_butterfingers_: I'm not even totally sure who Alec will end up with, you'll just have to bear with me on that one to find out.**

**_chocomonkey_: Well, here's another one!**

**_lalaland_: That's a major theme in the story, and basically everyone except Alec and Gibbs can see it.**

**Thanks for all the reviews, and as ususal, thanks to _princess moon shadow_ for always reviewing!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of it's characters, they belong to CBS. I do own Alec and anyone you don't recognize.**

**Disclaimer 2: ANY AND ALL MEDICAL KNOWLEDGE IN THIS CHAPTER IS CRAP!!!!! I am not a doctor, I have very limited medical knowledge mainly from tv and books. Do not trust anything about crime scenes and medicine that you read here, and PLEASE don't try to use it to save a life (though I don't see how it could).**

* * *

The crime scene was absolutely frigid. Of course, it had to be in a park, which lacked in buildings that could cut the wind some. So the wind was blowing full force, kicking up the snow in large drifts that were making it very hard to see.

As usual, the lack of visibility hadn't slowed Gibbs down any, but while his driving had the rest of the team clinging to their seats and each other for dear life (except maybe Ziva), Alec had seemed unfazed, and had actually appeared to have enjoyed the ride, and when asked how she could _possibly_ find Gibbs' driving _fun_, she'd only said "I've got a friend who drives like this, maybe worse. When you're blatantly ignoring all driving laws, all sorts of doors open up." The team had just decided to leave it at that, not really wanting to know what those doors opened _to_.

The body had been found by a group of kids around the age of 10 who were out sledding. While going down the hill, one of their sleds had hit a lump in the ground, and upon digging at it, the kids had uncovered the head of a body in a petty officer's uniform. That's where NCIS came in.

"DiNozzo, pictures. Ziva, sketches. McGee, talk to the kids." Gibbs said. "And you," he turned to Alec "Watch. Touch nothing; speak to no one you don't know."

"Stranger Danger." She said, earning herself a patented Gibbs glare, which she responded to with a bright smile.

"You can come with me." Tony called. "I'll show you all the complicated angles you need to use to get the perfect shot." He said, grinning and holding up the camera.

"You're taking pictures of a body, Tony, not creating art." Ziva said.

"Photography _is_ an art, Zee-vah." Tony retorted as he passed, Alec following with an amused look. Ziva just rolled her eyes and returned to her sketches.

"It's freezing out here!" Tony complained to Alec. She just shook her head, and said "C'mon, ain't that bad. Actually, I've been in much worse. This is like a refreshing kinds cool."

"Yeah," Tony said through gritted teeth as he snapped pictures. "Refreshing."

"I got a hat, wanna borrow it?" she asked.

"Well that depends, is it pink and girly?"

"It's black." She told him.

"And girly?" he pressed.

"See for yourself." She said, pulling a black wad from her jacket pocket and passing it to him.

Tony smoothed out the hat so he could get a good look at it, and as he did, his eyebrows raised.

"'Bite Me'?" he read, as, sure enough, the black ski cap stated in large, white block-print letters, 'Bite Me'.

"The reverse side says 'Eat Me'." Alec said with a smirk, and upon inspection, Tony found that, yes, indeed it did.

"And at what fine establishment did you obtain this?" he asked her.

"Not sure. A friend got it for me as a gift a few years ago. And knowing him, he could have gotten it anywhere." She said, in a voice that showed she wasn't really paying the conversation much attention. Alec found the body much more interesting.

"Well, I'm not completely sure how Gibbs would react to it." Tony said, handing the hat back to Alec, who merely grunted and jammed the hat on her head so that the word were on the left side of her head and forehead, her eyes never leaving the body.

"You know the words aren't straight." Tony told her.

"Yeah, I know. I always where it like this. Looks better this way…" She trailed off, cocking her head and squinting at the body.

"What are you looking at?" Tony asked, mimicking Alec's actions and cocking his head and squinting his eyes, like that might help him see what she was seeing.

"That." She said pointing at the body, but Tony could not tell what she was pointing at.

"What? I don't see anything weird. I mean, other than the dead body." He said.

Alec crouched down beside the body and gestured for Tony to do the same. Ziva had noticed what they were doing, and Alec gestured towards her as well.

"See this?" she said, pointing to what looked like a bullet wound in his chest.

"It is a bullet hole." Ziva said. "What is so odd about that?"

"What's odd is that it's an exit wound." She said, confusion evident in her tone. "In my experience with bullets, when someone gets shot, they tend to move with the bullet's momentum. Now we can't tell until they flip the body over, and I'm assuming that'll be Ducky doing the flipping and calling the shots, but this looks like the guy was shot in the back, and the bullet went straight through him. If it did, and he went with the momentum of the bullet per usual, he would have fallen forward and been found on his stomach. But here he is on his back."

"Maybe he slipped." Ziva said. "It's extremely icy around here."

"It's possible, but unlikely. His feet are facing towards the end of the hill. If you slip on a hill, wouldn't you normally fall forward down it, not backwards?" Alec questioned.

"So he was probably moved." Tony breathed. "Which means we have no idea where that bullet is, so we can't tell what kind of gun it was that killed him.

"Which means that you're going to have to work harder to find it, DiNozzo." A voice said from behind them, making the three of them jump in surprise. Turning as one, they found Gibbs standing behind them, with Ducky next to him.

"What did I say about not touching anything?" he growled at Alec, who looked back at him head on and said "I didn't touch anything. I gestured, I pointed, I spoke, but I never touched anything."

"Well, my dear, I must say that I am quite surprised that you, as an amateur with no medical training, could come to such a conclusion without compromising the crime scene." Ducky said, crouching next to her in the spot that Tony and Ziva had just vacated. "And by the look of our friend here," he turned the body over "It would appear that you were correct. How did you come to the solution that the body had been moved? I heard your description, but I mean how did _you_ know?"

Alec looked away from Ducky, not wanting anyone to see her eyes, because she knew that no matter what she said, her eyes would belie her. She'd loved and hated those days as a freelancer, as she'd called herself. Those days had started the second her parents drove away and left her on the side of the rode, leaving her forever, and ended the moment she'd been told by Landon that he had room for her to make things explode. But in between…she'd seen a lot. Learned a lot. Lessons she'd never forget, dark secrets she'd take to the grave. And in that experience, she'd seen her fair share of gang fights, mob hits, smugglers tying up loose ends, you name it, she'd probably seen it. Many things she'd seen that she'd like to forget, but they were forever imprinted on her memory.

But after the shooting, the stabbing, the drowning, the suffocating, the _killing_, she'd stay and watch. Wait for the police to come, and watch as the body was examined. And she'd listen. Listen to them, as they explained what they thought happened to their colleagues. Since she almost always knew what had happened, she was able to figure out what injury meant what. When someone was stabbed in the neck, they usually died because their jugular had been punctured and they'd bled out. When someone was strangled, it was asphyxiation, and what really killed them was the lack of oxygen to the cells and the brain, not just the not breathing. Whenever she heard something new, she'd go to the local library and look it up, find out what it really was. After a while, she could name the cause of death before the cops even arrived.

Alec had always known that she should have gone to the police, told them what she'd seen. She'd witnessed countless illegal dealings. She could've probably 'made a difference'. But she never went forth, because some of the illegal things she'd seen had been her own, and she couldn't risk being found out. So Alec stayed in the background, like with everything else in her life, unnoticed by the rest of the world.

She wasn't sure what to tell Ducky. Alec had hated discussing her macabre talent with the gang, with anyone. She wasn't proud of how she came to know these things, but she did and she couldn't change that.

So, sucking in a nervous breath, Alec said "I did a lot of reading in local libraries. Some of the books had really good pictures." It wasn't a lie; she really had done a lot of reading. She just wasn't telling the whole truth.

"I see. Reading is one of the most useful tools." Ducky said, and then he called to Palmer to come bring over his bag.

"With me." Gibbs said to Alec, and he turned and started walking before she could reply.

Once she'd caught up, he said "You're not telling the whole truth. You know more than just what some book could tell you. You weren't at all fazed by the body, you didn't even blink at it. And the way you spoke about that wound, you've had first hand experience with this before. I don't know when, I don't know how, but you have, and one day I will find out how, whether from official records, anonymous sources, or maybe you'll tell me. But one day, I will find out, I can assure you I will."

Alec was at a loss for words. She'd been extremely careful to school her face so no one could tell she was lying-wait, not lying, _omitting the truth_. Yeah, that was it. But still he'd known there was more. What else could Gibbs tell about her? She could only guess.

"By the way," he said with his back turned to her as he went to round up his team- or should she say, the_ rest_ of his team? He probably wouldn't like that one, so she had to smile as she thought it.

"Nice hat, it makes a statement."

* * *

**I hope you all liked this! I personally love Alec's hat, I came up with that one day when I was imagining what Gibbs's reaction would be if Alec told him 'Bite me', and it just kind of escalated from there. So tell me what you think and review!!!**


	8. Scars of the Past

**Hi, whoo, this is my second update today, but not for this story, but still feel good about it. Like I said in my other update, though I highly doubt you read it, but I have a poll up on my profile about how you reached my profile, so if you could participate in that, it would be much obliged. This is probably the only story I've got where I have the plotline clearly mapped out in my head, but it takes a while for me to write it all up, so bear with me. And with that, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or its characters, CBS does. I do own Alec and anyone you don't recognize.**

* * *

By the time the NCIS team had finished with the crime scene, interviewed everybody, packed up their equipment, and finally arrived back at NCIS headquarters, it was already 10:30 pm.

"Everybody head home." Gibbs told the team. "We're not going to make any more progress on the case tonight."

With that, McGee and Ziva said their goodbyes and left, and Tony was about to do the same when he turned around and looked at Alec, who'd been standing in the middle of the bullpen leaning against a divider on one of the cubicles, looking around warily with her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

"Hey, where are you supposed to be staying?" he asked her, because, really, where was she to stay? She was too young to have her own place, but they couldn't exactly put her in the system, either.

"I was told to call this number at the end of the day." She replied, holding up a slip of paper with a phone number on it as evidence.

"What's it for?" Tony asked.

"This place, it's sort of similar to a halfway house, but for teens. And I want no comments on that analogy about criminals and halfway houses." She said in a warning tone, giving Tony a look to match. "Anyways, it's where they send teens 15 and up who have jobs, you know? The ones that wouldn't be in a home all day. So I guess it is a halfway house, but instead of being for employed ex-convicts and parolees, it's for employed teens with no parents. And, being that that's technically what I am, their sending me there."

"Wait, so you're going to be with a bunch of rough orphan kids from the system?" Tony asked.

"What?" Alec said looking very amused. "You don't think I can handle 'em? _Me_, the criminal who grew up on the streets, the one who's parents, when I was 8 mind you, threw me out of the car at 80 miles an hour on a basically abandoned stretch of highway?" Her smile quickly faded and she blanched, realizing that she'd just told one of her most personal secrets about her life before Landon.

She'd attracted Gibbs' attention as well, from where he'd been at his desk, leafing through old mail. Now his eyes as well as Tony's were on her, so she pretended to be very interested with some lint on her shirt, and was picking at it as if her sole purpose in life was to remove that lint.

"You said that your parents left you on the side of the road." Tony said, his voice soft and his eyes wide.

Alec kept it up with the lint. "Yeah, well they basically did." She said, keeping her eyes averted. "I landed on the side of the road, so it's basically the same thing."

"No, it's not." Tony said, a not-humorous smile on his face. "Leaving you on the side of the road wasn't bad enough, they couldn't even slow down first? They seriously just tossed you out?"

"Yeah," Alec said slowly, and when she finally looked up her eyes were suspicious and wary. "Why does it matter? I mean, they didn't want me anymore, didn't want to have to take care of me, why should they have worried about my well-being when it wasn't their concern anymore?"

"Wasn't their concern?" Tony said, a hint of anger in his voice. "How were you not their concern?! They're your _parents_!"

Alec was getting slightly frustrated now that he just couldn't see it. "So?" she asked, raising her voice. "It doesn't matter who they are, they didn't want me, so why should they bother anymore? They weren't going to have to deal with me, deal with the aftermath of their actions, so why should they have set me down gently with a pat on the head and a kiss goodbye? I mean, either way they left me, it doesn't matter how they did it, 'cause they did. What's done is done, and even if they had left me nicely, it wouldn't have changed anything. Because guess what? The name of the game is still 'abandonment', no matter what pretty paper you wrap it in."

"You don't think it matters?" Gibbs said quietly. "How can you just accept what they did to you?"

"Because my parents are selfish bastards!" she shouted angrily, and if you looked close enough, her eyes weren't just watering from the dry air. Both Tony and Gibbs seemed surprised at her statement, Tony much more so than Gibbs, who looked mildly surprised, whilst Tony looked shocked.

"They never wanted me! They'd told me that as far back as I can remember!" Alec continued. "And after the first couple thousand times they drunkenly, highly, or even soberly told me that, it started to sink in that it just might be the truth. They only kept me around so they could get more tax money from the government. You know, to supposedly help support me. Though really they just used it for drugs and alcohol and whatever the hell else they wanted while they made me either go through trash bins for my meals or starve! There, happy now? Now you know what a pitiful life I lived. And, the thing is, while the throwing me out of the car left many scars, as you can see," She held out her arms and pulled back her sleeves, revealing some very twisted, faded, gnarled scars spanning the length of both arms. "It was probably the best thing that they ever did for me. Because on that day, they let me go, so while I was all alone in the world, I was away from them, and trust me, it's much better to be alone then to be trapped with those two." She took a deep breath, seeming considerably calmer after her rant.

"What are your parents' full names?" Gibbs asked after almost a minute of silence.

"What?' Alec asked, confusion etching her features. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"I want to track them down." Gibbs said calmly, ignoring her rough language.

Alec's face again lost almost all color, and she started shaking her head back and forth very slowly.

"No," she said, softly, quietly. "No." she said, this time a little bit louder. "You're not making me go back with them. You are NOT sending me back with them!" she said, getting louder and speaking faster as her breathing became more shaky and quick and her eyes widened.

"I swear to God," she said, backing slowly away from the two agents. "I will kill myself before I ever end up with them again. It doesn't matter if you lock me up and put me on 24 hour suicide watch, I know ways to kill myself that none of you would think of, and I will be dead before you send me back with them!"

"Alec, calm down." Gibbs said softly, while he mentally berated himself for unknowingly doing this to her. Of course she'd be traumatized by them! If she'd said that throwing her out of a speeding car was one of the best things that had ever happened to her, they really must have put her through some awful things, and in a paranoid mind like she was bound to have, the first thought at being asked what your tormentors' names were would immediately make you think you were being sent back to them, should your tormentors be your parents, which they were. Gibbs was surprised to find that he was feeling less and less hateful towards this girl, though he tried to only show it gradually. It was hard to be angry at her for her previous _occupation_ when right now, she hardly seemed like Alec Broekhart, criminal. Right now she just seemed like a girl who'd been treated like crap by her parents who was scared to death of being near them ever again. It just made him more intent to fulfill his original intentions when he'd asked Alec her parents' names- to find those bastards and get them behind bars for what they'd done to their daughter who they so obviously hadn't deserved, because even though Gibbs hated her being a criminal, he didn't necessarily hate her as a person, and he could tell that she was, underneath the criminal exterior, much too good a person for her scumbag parents to have as a child.

"It's okay," Gibbs continued, sitting her down in a chair and kneeling in front of her so they were face to face. "I'm not sending you back to them. That thought never crossed my mind. No matter how much I may object to you working on my team, it's not my call. I can make your life living hell while you're here, but I'm not that much of a bastard that I'd find your parents and give you back to them. From what you've said, no one deserves to be stuck with your parents."

"You're not sending me back?" Alec said incredulously, sniffling a little. "Then why do you want to know their names?"

"So I can find them and get them arrested for what they did to you." Gibbs said, and Alec gave a small smile at the thought of that.

"Ian Broekhart is my father's, and Natalie Lawrence is my mother's maiden name." she said in an almost pained voice, like even saying their names hurt her.

Tony had watched this whole thing with at first worry at Alec's reaction, and then pride in Gibbs' handling of the situation. He'd known deep down that Gibbs wouldn't be _that _mean to Alec, and he was happy that he'd been right about his boss.

"All right," Gibbs said standing up. "I'll start looking for them tomorrow. In the mean time, what's the address of this place you're going to be staying?"

Alec gave him the address and he wrote it down, as well as the phone number. "Why do you need it?" she asked.

"So I know where to find you if I need you." He responded, and she felt slightly better that he wasn't being as hostile as he'd been before. She'd never known that she grew on people that fast.

"What's it's supposed to be like there?" Gibbs asked her. "Are they feeding you and everything?"

"Yeah, meals, bathrooms, beds, all that fun stuff. Plus, they give you the charity clothes that they receive and pay for soap and shampoo and stuff, and about $50 spending money to start you off to buy some necessities for yourself like better clothes and whatever you want, though after that you're expected to use the cash that you get at your job."

"Do you guys share rooms?" Tony inquired.

"Everything's dormitory style." She replied.

"Sounds great." Gibbs said. "Come on, I'll drive you so you don't need to get a ride from whatever poor kid who's on duty right now."

And with that, she'd completed her first day at NCIS.

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**Did you like that? I did, because, well, let me just say that Alec's 'halfway house' is going to become slightly more prominent later on. Stick with me for a while and you'll find out why. And please, as always, review.**


	9. Housing Crisis

**Thanks for all the feedback! This is my longest chapter for anything EVER, but I really wanted to do all of this at once. I had originally planned the 'Housing Crisis' as I call it to go on for a couple of dys, but I really like this how it came out. If Gibbs seems to be warming to Alec too quickly, just remember, she said last chapter that she never knew she grew on people so quickly. Alec's team are still around here somewhere if you're wondering, they're just too busy scheming and planning to make an appearnce. Now for some anonymous reviews:**

**_butterfingers_: You're welcome, and good to know. ;)**

**_Your Favorite Lab Partner_: You get Eat Me, I get Bite Me. That's just how it is.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, CBS does. I also do not own the Three Stooges or Dirty Harry, both of which are mentioned. I do own Alec and anyone you don't recognize.**

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Alec walked in to room C of the dormitories in the Hastings Home for Adolescents, holding her standard items given to every teen in the building, which was basically soap, shampoo, etc., in one arm, and her bag of her own items in the other. That bag was her own from Landon's, which she usually brought everywhere with her, and this was no exception. The feds had checked her bag when she was first brought in, so she no longer had her pocket knife or switchblade, which she was usually never without, but she still had her mp3 player, which was her baby, as well as some of her other things, so she decided she'd survive.

She'd been given the rules of the place by the worker on duty, who really didn't seem happy to see her, if his exasperated sigh of "Another one?" meant anything. One of the rules had been more of a threat than a rule. She'd been told that because of her record, she was already on thin ice, and if she got in to fights, she'd be kicked from the place before she could blink.

Gibbs had given her a similar rule. Before she'd left with the worker, he'd pulled her aside and said "If you get in to any trouble here, and I mean fights included, you will be gone from my team. Got it?"

So she had a new resolve then, which was to not fight, though she and the gang used to play fight each other all the time, and she was quite a good fighter. It wouldn't be that hard to not fight, considering that she probably just wouldn't speak to anyone anyway. But as she placed her things on the bunk she'd been given, she could see that some of the kids here were going to make that hard for her, if the way that they were stalking menacingly towards her meant anything.

It was a group of three, the leader being a girl who was probably 17, with a lot of tattoos and piercings that she probably thought made her look tough. Her two companions, a boy (which was odd because it was one of the girls' dormitories) and a girl who looked to be about the same age as their leader, looked the same. These kids watched too many movies if they thought that having a pierced tongue or eyebrow was going to freak her out. They appeared to intimidate the other teens, though, because many of the kids jumped out of the way for them and one of them literally sprinted in the opposite direction of them. Alec couldn't really understand why, because just looking at them she had already thought up ways to use their many piercings to cause them pain. Those piercings were really just more of a liability.

"What do we have here?" the leader girl said, as she flipped her badly dyed black hair out of her face. "Fresh meat." The female crony laughed responding to her, and Alec muttered to herself "This isn't an '80s gangbanger flick, and if you think people really talk like that in the real world then you really need to get out more."

"What did you say, punk?" The leader said, getting in her face so Alec could see that not only was her hair badly dyed, but this girl wasn't making use of the free shampoo that was offered. Alec looked up at the girl, and she started to feel her blood pump with that same old excitement that she always got when she started dissing people and when she knew a fight was coming on.

"_No, bad Alec, you're not supposed to get in fights!_" part of her said, but the other part just argued back that as long as she didn't touch them, she'd be fine, so she cocked her head to the side and said "Well, I was saying that no one talks to people like that in the real world. And the last person to call someone 'punk' and sound cool when they said it was Dirty Harry, and you don't look like Clint Eastwood to me."

"Oh, we got ourselves a wise guy, huh?" The guy said to the other two, to which Alec responded with an exasperated sigh "No, Larry, Curly, and Moe, we don't. Because no one talks like that! Can you only watch bad '70s cop shows here or something, that you all feel the great obligation to speak like this?"

The leader scowled at her, before saying "What do you know about the real world, huh? My old man threw me out when I was 13! I had to live it rough on the streets, living among addicts and drunks!"

"Yeah, and by the looks of you, it seems to me that you must have fit right in." Alec said defiantly. "You clearly were a user, you've got needle scars plain as day. And you think it's so hard for you, that you're so tough because you have more holes in you that Swiss cheese and are more ink and metal than person, let me let you in on a little fact that I've picked up just from watching you: You said that your dad threw you out. He probably did so because choices _you_ had made in life. I didn't get a choice; my parents left me on the side of the road when I was 8. But see how you immediately tried to tell me your sob story with no real provocation? That's because you're starved for attention and have an insane need to feel like you're tough and big, which makes it seem as if you were looked down upon a lot in your life. You gain from telling your story not for pity, but to gain fear, but when you tell it to a person who's watched more murders and hits then you three have in your combined piercings- and trust me, that looks like a lot- you're just going to get pity, because you're pathetic, and I'm not afraid to tell you that."

The room was silent, and Alec heard murmurings of "Did you see how she stood up to Jess? She's going to get killed!" which told her that the leader was, apparently, Jess. And Jess did not seem happy. Alec could tell from the way she launched herself at her and attempted to throw her to the floor, but missed terribly when Alec expertly side stepped her and moved out of the way so she could watch Jess hit the ground because of her own doing.

Some of the kids cowered and shrieked at the attack, and some stood on top of their beds to see better. Alec knew for a fact from when she'd come in that there were only five adults here right now, and that they wouldn't come if there was a fight. She could see from the bruises that many of the cowering kids sported that protecting them from these three wasn't a top priority. And by tomorrow, Alec probably would have joined the ranks of the bruised, because she could only dodge so much before they actually hit her, and she couldn't fight back without losing her job at NCIS and being arrested. So fighting back, even in self-defense, wasn't an option.

When Jess howled in anger at her evasion, she started to claw at her legs in a very pansy ass manner in Alec's mind. But the clawing didn't really help when Jess shouted "Ryan! Heather! You're supposed to back me up!" at which the cronies, ahem, _Ryan and Heather_, simultaneously went "Oh." And jumped at Alec who slipped easily aside, causing them to trip on Jess as she was attempting to stand, making the three fall on top of each other in a very unattractive manner, which made some of the kids laugh joyously at their tormentors' expense.

The laughing stopped a minute later when they stood and Ryan, who though he didn't appear to be a very experienced fighter, still had about 5 inches and at least 60 pounds on her, grabbed her and held her still, allowing the two girls to stand and, presumably hit her.

"Not so tough now, are you?" Jess said, breathing in her face, and proving that she also didn't make use of the given toothpaste, either.

Alec knew that there was no chance of escaping a beating now, so she might as well make the most of her situation, which basically meant keep mouthing off like there was no tomorrow. "Still using clichéd lines, I see." She retorted, and then had to hold back a yelp of pain when Ryan yanked her head back from where he was holding her from behind.

"Still feeling like talking back, I see. I'll fix that." Jess said, and then she pulled her fist back and landed it right in Alec's face.

Alec saw the hit coming, so she did what she always used to do when she somehow got wrapped up in a brawl or beating- she blanked out. Not exactly passing out, she just kind of retreated in to herself and turned off, putting up a proverbial 'Vacancy' sign on her body. She still saw through her eyes, felt every punch Jess laid on her, every kick Heather delivered to her ribs when they'd hit her to the floor, but what she saw, as well as the pain, all seemed so far off, like she was watching some very faded movie, and she was living someone else's experiences from afar.

She couldn't really remember everything, because after a while watching them beat her started to bore her, so she started playing songs in her head until they were done, whether that was seconds or minutes or hours later, she wasn't sure, but after a while she felt that they were gone and that the room around here was all asleep, so she sat up stiffly and winced at the shocking white pain in her ribs. Something there was probably bruised, if not broken.

Painstakingly picking herself up, she grabbed her bag and dragged herself to the bathroom, where she pulled out her homemade first-aid kit and started checking out her wounds. She wrapped her ribs and found that they were most definitely bruised, but by some gift from God they weren't broken, so she didn't have to worry about them puncturing something. Her leg was pretty bruised and would definitely be sore, but she wouldn't limp if she worked hard enough not to. She saw a monster bruise forming on her face around her left cheekbone, where Jess had hit her the most, because Jess was apparently a righty. She wasn't sure how she'd hide it from Gibbs and the team, but at the time she was more worried about sleep, so she finished with the first-aid and stumbled off to her bed, where she dumped her bag and immediately fell asleep.

The next day, Gibbs was at work and at his desk bright and early, as usual, and he drank his coffee at his desk while he waited for the rest of his team to arrive. McGee came first, and he gave Gibbs a cheerful wave as he made his way to his desk. Ziva was next, followed by a yawning Tony who the proceeded to change his shirt _at_ his desk, not caring who was around.

Gibbs waited for his newest team member to appear, and he was beginning to wonder if she'd bailed on them when she literally stumbled in to the bullpen with her head down so her hair hid her face, and she made her way to her given desk with much effort, and he could tell from the way that she walked that she was trying very hard not to limp, and even to his trained eye, the limp was barely perceptible. But it was definitely there.

He watched as Alec sat down, or rather fell in to her chair, and then looked around to see if anyone was watching, which was when he put his head down, but once he was sure that her search was done, he looked up and watched as she reached to rub her leg, and winced in just reaching, letting out a hiss of pain. That caused McGee to look up, and Gibbs heard him ask her "Hey, are you okay?" to which she responded "'M fine."

Tony and Ziva were now both also watching this exchange very interestedly. As Alec leaned down to grab something from her bag, she let out a sharp gasp of pain. Gibbs had decided he'd seen enough and he strode over to her. Seeing what she was reaching for, he bent down and grabbed the water bottle from her bag and put it on her desk, just out of easy reach. She looked up at him, her hair still shadowing her face, and then went to grab the water bottle, but when she had to lean forward to get it, her eyes widened and Gibbs saw that she was holding her breath.

Sliding the bottle towards her, he said "Okay, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." She grumbled, keeping her head down even as she drank the water.

"Then look up at me." Gibbs said calmly.

"Why?" she said defiantly, bent on keeping her head down.

"Because I told you to. Now do it." Gibbs told her, and getting no response, he added "That's an order."

Glaring, Alec lifted her head and cocked it, and shoved her hair out of her face, and looked at Gibbs as if she was daring him to comment on the bruise that took over her left cheek.

"What happened?" Gibbs said bluntly, while the team gasped at her bruising.

"I fell down some stairs." Alec said looking him directly in the eye.

"You really expect me to believe that?" Gibbs said, to which Alec responded "It's the truth."

"So you hit your ribs and your leg too?" he asked incredulously.

"Yep." She replied.

"Well, we're going to have Ducky check you out then to make sure nothing's broken." He said, and he motioned for her to follow him to the elevator while he said to the team "Get to work; we have a killer to catch."

Once in the elevator, Alec mumbled at Gibbs "I'm fine, I know nothing's broken."

"Yeah, well I'd feel better if a professional looked at it." He replied.

Gibbs led the way to Autopsy, where Ducky was already examining the body. Looking up, he said "Ah, Jethro, I'm afraid I don't have anything for you yet,"

"Well I have something for you." Gibbs cut him off, motioning to Alec.

"Oh, Alecxis," Ducky said when he saw her face. "What have you managed to do to yourself? Come sit down." He motioned her to an empty table.

"She apparently fell down some stairs. Ribs and right leg got hit too." Gibbs said.

Ducky got to work looking her over, and he was astonished to see how well she'd wrapped her ribs.

"You obviously have experience, don't you?" he said to her. Turning to Gibbs, he said "As you may know, Jethro, it is very hard to wrap one's own ribs."

"Yeah, Duck, I know, just get on with it." Gibbs said gruffly.

Ducky checked her ribs and said that Alec was right, they weren't broken. Her leg was bruised as well, but she didn't break or sprain it, either. He was just finishing examining the bruise on her face when Abby came running in, going "Oh my God, are you okay? McGee told me, and I rushed down here. Are you all right, stairs really hurt sometimes." She began mother hen-ing Alec, much to Alec's protest. While she did this, Ducky motioned for Gibbs to follow him across the room to speak.

"Jethro, I'm afraid that despite what young Alecxis has said, her injuries weren't made by stairs. They were made by people." Ducky told Gibbs, glancing at Alec.

"You saying she was beaten, Duck?" Gibbs said, though really he'd been thinking the same since he'd seen her.

"Most definitely, I'm afraid." Ducky said.

"Damn it." Gibbs said under his breath. "It was probably someone at that home she was staying in. I'll talk to her. If it was someone there, I'll find someplace for her to go."

Walking over to Alec, he said "We know you lied. Someone beat you. Who was it?" Abby gasped, and when Alec started to say she wasn't beaten, Gibbs said "Don't lie to me again."

Looking deflated, Alec said "These kids at the home. I coulda beaten the shit outta them, but you plus the people there told me no fighting, or I lose my job here and get arrested. Yeah, I might've provoked 'em a bit, but they did most of it. I didn't hit 'em once, I evaded for a while and then the one guy grabbed me and held me so the other two could hit me and it was over. And yeah, no one came to help 'cause they're all afraid of these guys or they just don't care- the adults fall in the don't care section."

"You're not staying there again." Gibbs said in a way that told them that the decision was final.

"You could stay with me!" Abby suggested happily. "Oh my God, it'll be so cool-"

Gibbs cut her off. "You're staying with me." He said to Alec, which shocked everyone.

"Seriously?" Alec asked incredulously. "Don't you hate me?"

"No, I don't hate you. You're staying with me because you're a member of my team and if after one night you get in to trouble, then the only way I can keep you from getting yourself from getting killed is if you're with me. We'll get your stuff from that place later. I'd like to speak to the people there." Gibbs finished, and with that, he left, with a very stunned Alec, Abby, and Ducky in his wake.

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**I hope that didn't seem too weird, but trust me, I know where I am going with this. Please review!!!**


	10. Music

**Hello, and so sorry for the delay! But look! Chapter 10! Aren't you glad we've made it this far? I am, though of course I would be. Thanks for all the wonderful feedback, I've got some reviews to respond to below, actually it was the most reviews I've ever gotten for one chapter, so thanks! A lot of this is Gibbs thoughts on everything, mostly Alec and why he made the decision he did.**

**_Dragon_: Thank you so much, your review made me so happy! I wish I could give you a few plot hints, but you don't have a profile and I don't want to give out the entire plot right here, but there is a twist this chapter, if that satisfies you a little bit! I've never seen a hat like that, though if I ever come across one, I will say where because I want one too and so does my friend.**

**_Kelly_: Oh, Bucky, we're back I see. :) The prodigal reviewer. But at least you finally reviewed, which is more than I can say for Bisquik, so cookies for you!**

**_Your Favorite Lab Partner ever_: Nice idea for the hats, I get black though. And you, like Bucky, get cookies for reviewing! Cookies for all the reviewers! Yeah!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, CBS does. I do own Alec and anyone else you don't know. I also don't own the lyrics, which are from 'Stupefy' by Disturbed. I also don't own any of the bands listed in italics.**

* * *

Gibbs left Autopsy, ignoring the baffled stares of Abby, Ducky, and Alec that he felt practically burning holes in his back. They were definitely surprised; hell, so was Gibbs! When he'd come in to NCIS that morning, he'd been planning on testing out Alec's abilities and giving her a hard time, not ending up with her as a roommate! And by his own choice, too. If someone had told him that he'd _choose_ for Alec to stay with him, he would've laughed. Well, maybe not laughed. But glared, he probably would have glared.

Really, he wasn't sure why he'd chosen to take Alec in; it had been a very spur of the moment idea. But after seeing how painfully bruised she was all over, and because she was trying to follow _his_ orders, no less- well, to say he felt guilty was sort of an understatement. To say it simply, he felt like crap.

Gibbs knew it wasn't his fault, at least not directly. But indirectly, yes. He'd told her that she would be removed from his team, maybe even NCIS, if she got just one more smudge to her record. And God only knew what her record truly looked like- you probably wouldn't be able to see a smudge from fighting underneath all of the vivid scribbles from her previous endeavors. He'd thought that she wouldn't be able to follow his 'no fighting' rule, just from her appearance and her past. She seemed as if she didn't care to be in NCIS and that she'd _rather_ be in prison, like she didn't understand the great deal she'd been given, and what it really meant. Or, at least that's what Gibbs had _thought_.

But, once again, she'd surprised him and proved him wrong. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. He always thought the worst of her, and then she'd go and prove him wrong by showing her true colors- the ones beneath the dark exterior. The ones that were bright and happy, the colors that showed that the cynicism and sarcasm were all in good spirit, that _criminal_ might actually just be an occupation to her, and not a way to act. Because though she'd only been at NCIS for a day now- _was it really only a day?_

Yes, it had really only been a day since this wisecracking, smartass teenager had walked in to NCIS, in to his perception of _bad_, and started mixing things up and throwing a party in there. Gibbs had known for years that it wasn't all black and white, that there were shades of gray as well. But he'd never applied those shades of gray to a thief before. He could accept someone keeping a secret to protect a fallen comrade's honor, or a parent trying to keep their family together, even if that meant going against the law. But still, in his mind, those people weren't the enemy, but others were. Murderers, killers, lawbreakers, _thieves_. They were always in the dark patches, the black spots.

But now here was this girl coming in and throwing light in to that pit of black, messing with his perspective. He had expected her to go against all the rules he set, and she hadn't. She'd followed them all to the point of her own injury. Not even willing to fight back in self defense, that had proved something to Gibbs- that she truly understood the blessing she'd been given and was not taking any part of it for granted.

He was also finding that he was glad she hadn't gone against his rules. He was glad that he wouldn't have to remove her from his team, because, whether he'd admit it or not, he was growing rather fond of her. She did nothing if not keep things interesting.

Gibbs had seen her talking with Tony yesterday at the crime scene, how quickly his senior field agent had accepted her, practically with open arms. Abby, of course, had shown her obvious affection for the girl. Ziva had been harder to win over, but she seemed to have grown more respect for Alec after her demonstration of her knowledge at the crime scene. McGee had obviously accepted her, at least a little bit, if his asking if she was okay this morning had meant anything. And Ducky, well Ducky had seemed to welcome her from the get go, like he'd known she'd be here long term. Gibbs had to smile at the fact that only Ducky could have told from the start that somehow Alec would grown on Gibbs, and that he wouldn't throw her out the first chance he got.

And Gibbs had made his decision- she still had criminal tendencies, and he knew he'd never be able to truly clean her of them, and he didn't want to. He had to admit, Vance had been right about her perspective being helpful. Of course, he'd never say that to the director's face. But still, he'd chosen- Alec was staying on his team.

He knew that Alec still wasn't loyal to him and she didn't completely trust him, but it had been only one day, and you could only hope for so much so fast. But Gibbs could tell that Alec's trust and loyalty was not something she freely gave away, it couldn't be in her line of work unless you wanted to get caught or killed. He knew, though, that he could _earn_ it, if he tried. He wouldn't show it though, because he was Gibbs, and he had a reputation to keep. But he already knew how Alec dealt out respect, she'd told him in the car the night before.

It had been silent, and all of the sudden she'd just started talking, if only to fill the uncomfortable void. Gibbs wasn't sure if she'd even been hearing what she was saying, but he knew he'd heard. She told him how she felt respect wasn't handed over because of your rank, or your age, or because you demanded it. It was given because you earned it, because you were a good leader, because you had been deemed worthy of it. If you had to demand respect to get it, or use your position, then you were just pathetic if that's the only way that anyone would respect you. Alec had said that if you truly were worthy of respect, then it would come to you in time, once you'd done something to deserve it. Gibbs didn't know if she was talking about him, or if she was just ranting, but he'd gotten the message loud and clear, either way. And he had to admit, he liked the idea.

It made sense, and it was extremely similar to his own ideals, which again surprised him. But she was just so full of surprises.

The only problem was her past loyalties. Gibbs remembered how she'd said that if her team came back for her, she'd go in a heartbeat. Originally, Gibbs had welcomed the idea, if only to get her gone, if not to get the entire group arrested. But now….Now Gibbs wanted nothing more than for Alec's criminal family to never appear, to never try to take her back. He felt anger just at the thought of it.

Because the truth was, she was part of _his _team now. She belonged to _him_. He didn't care what her "Boss" thought, because _he_, Gibbs, was her boss now. And that was how he was going to keep it.

Gibbs came out of his reveries as he entered the bullpen, and he was greeted with good news- they had a lead on the case.

Their victim had turned out to be a Petty Officer Mitchell Robins, who had been off duty at the time. Better yet, they'd located his wife, who seemed to have a very sketchy alibi that she'd been visiting an old friend from college when her husband was killed. Upon McGee's checking of Mrs. Nicole Robins records, he found that she'd never even _been_ to college; she'd dropped out of high school her senior year.

So basically, she either thought that they were stupid, or she was too stupid to think that they would do a background check on her. Either way, Gibbs sent Tony and Ziva to go confront her about her lie. In the mean time, he decided to check up on Alec, who hadn't returned from Autopsy. He had a pretty good idea of where she was.

As Gibbs reached Abby's lab, he heard a kind of music that he had _definitely_ not heard Abby playing before, and it wasn't just different because it actually had words. The music was louder, if that was even possible. Also, it has less of a techno sound and more of a heavy rock/metal sound. His eyes widened slightly as he listened to some of the lyrics that were slightly muffled through the door.

_Yeah, bringing you another disturbing creation  
From the mind of one sick animal who can't tell the difference  
And gets stupefied_

_I've been waiting my whole life for just one f---  
And all I needed was just one f---  
How can you say that you don't give a f---  
I find myself stupefied, coming back again  
All I wanted was just one f---  
One tiny little innocent f---  
And when I feel like I'm shit out of luck  
I find my stupefied, coming back again_

Gibbs had heard enough. Storming in to the lab, he turned to Alec and Abby and irately demanded "What the HELL do you think you're doing?!"

Abby looked taken aback, and she said "Geez, Gibbs, calm down. We're just listening to some music."

Gibbs glared at her, which didn't really help because she just stared right back at him, unfazed. "This," he gestured at the air around him. "Is not music. And even if it is, it is definitely not appropriate for work. And something tells me that it belongs to you," He pointed at Alec.

Alec didn't cower as most would, but turned and hit the pause button on the stereo. Then she said calmly "She asked what I listened to, I pulled out my mp3 player, Abby plugged it in, and that was the last song I'd had on, and we restarted it."

"Are you telling me that you have other _things_ on that," Gibbs pointed at Alec's mp3 player. "Like that last one?"

"Yep," Alec said happily.

"Show me," Gibbs replied.

"Why?" Alec asked suspiciously, eyes narrowed,

"Because if you're going to be staying with me, I want to know what I'll be stuck hearing," he replied exasperatedly, as if the very thought exhausted him.

"Well, she's got some awesome stuff on there," Abby told him. "Listen to this."

By the end of the song session, Alec had a list of bands that she couldn't play at work. That list included, but was not limited to, _Disturbed_, _Slipknot_, _Papa Roach_, _Korn_, _Saliva_, _Nickelback_, _Linkin Park_, _Green Day_, _Buckcherry_, _Avenged Sevenfold_, _Beastie Boys_, _Motley Crue_, _Tantric_, _Theory of a Deadman_, _Rev Theory_, _Tantric_, _The Offspring_, and _Three Days Grace_, to name a few. There were plenty of bands she knew that were yet to be added to that list.

"Gibbs!" Abby complained. "If people find the songs offensive, then why can't they just leave?"

"Because some people here barely tolerate _your_ music, Abs," He told her. "And this would be considered completely unacceptable."

"Then when is she supposed to listen to it?" Abby asked him stubbornly, arms crossed. "I know you're not going to let her ever play that stuff at your place."

"I might," he grinned at her. "You never know. And as for at work," Gibbs picked up Alec's discarded headphones and handed them to her. "These stay in, got it? No speakers."

Alec smiled as she took the headphones from him, and he was surprised. It was the first real smile she'd given him, so he knew that he must be making some sort of progress.

"Sure thing," she said happily. "So what now?"

"Now you go and do the job that you're here to do," he replied.

"'Kay," she responded, and grabbing her mp3 player, she walked happily out of the lab.

"Aw, Gibbs," Abby said with a smile. "I knew you'd like her! I mean, you do like her, right? Wait, why am I even asking that, you're having her stay at your house, of course you like her! But you've gotta let her come over for a sleepover some time, got it? Because she's a 16 year old girl, and 16 year old girls need sleepovers and shopping trips and going to the movies and-"

"Abby," Gibbs silenced her. "If the next word out of your mouth is 'boyfriends', then I will turn and leave right now."

"Gibbs," Abby said exasperatedly. "The point is that she's not going to be content with her life if all it contains is catching the bad guy and helping to sand your boat."

"You never know," Gibbs said as he turned to go and leave her to actually do her work. "She may surprise you."

* * *

In a hotel room in Maryland, a man heard the entire conversation. This was going to be almost too easy. First Landon was stupid enough to lose the girl, and then these NCIS agents were so unsuspecting. Getting this girl would be easy as pie.

* * *

**Ooooh, who's the guy? Let me just say that there is foreshadowing in his 4 sentences, though only my sister would be able to pick it out. Later on, we'll see if anyone recognizes what was being foreshadowed OTHER than Alec getting mixed up with bad guys, which is like a given because she's someting of a trouble magnet. And the bands were basically me scrolling down my mp3 player going 'Who here might offend Gibbs or other people?' Review and stick around for more!**


	11. Life With Gibbs

**I apologize for how long this took, but this is my new longest chapter, 4,600 words. WHOO!!! I'd meant for the gang to make an appearance in this one, but the chapter was long enough already, so I decided thast they'll reappear when I was originally planning, which is soon. Thanks so much for all the support I've gotten for this!!!**

**_kelly_: Thanks so much!! But which references?**

**_Your Favorite Lab Partner Ever_: Oh, yeah, that's gotta be it!! And, of course, who doesn't love pecan pie?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, CBS does. I do own Alec and anyone you don't know.**

* * *

Alec sat at her desk, pondering the fact of how strange it was that she even _had_ a desk. Back at Landon's place, they all decorated their rooms as they wanted, and while she'd had a desk there with a computer, she'd never done paperwork at it. She wondered what her room would be like at Gibbs' place, or, more importantly, how long she'd be there.

Alec had, for a very, very brief period, been in the foster care system when she was 7, if only for 3 weeks. She'd only lasted that long before her foster _family_, who were almost as bad as her parents, had spilled a bottle of alcohol on the floor and then 10 minutes later tried to stamp out a cigarette on the same floor. The end result had been the house being burned to the ground and Alec being believed to have died in the fire. It had been a very tiny town with a police force of three very inept officers who never thought to even look for a trace of remains, so Alec was believed to be dead. As long as no one put in a search on her and included dead people, she'd be fine.

But then again, she was working for Gibbs now, and Gibbs would think to check _all_ files, even those of the deceased, so it was only a matter of time, really. She knew for a fact that the file wouldn't be of much help for finding info on her, because she'd told the social worker a huge pack of lies that they'd believed without blinking an eye. The only person who'd ever seen her file and knew she was still alive was Landon, and that was only because he did some very thorough research.

In her experience, the only place Alec had lived in for a long period of time was Landon's place, and that was for 3 years. Everywhere else she'd "lived" had been various "houses" and motel rooms with her parents, that place with her foster family, abandoned buildings, the streets, back alleys, etc. Occasionally she'd meet a sympathetic homeless person who would take her with them to a shelter, claiming to be her parent so social services wouldn't jump all over her. But people like that came few and far between, so she was usually by herself in whatever abandoned tenement she'd found for the week.

"Alec,"

She'd never really stuck to one place for long, so she wondered how long she'd be with Gibbs before he, too, was sick of her and kicked her out. After experiencing her 16 years of life, she found that very few people ever got attached enough to her to keep her around. Alec was counting her blessings until she got shipped off to juvie when everyone got sick of her. She gave this entire arrangement one, two weeks, tops.

"Alec!"

Also, there was the question of when the gang would show up. They'd never been particularly good at quick rescues from anything. Alec knew her team, and she knew that they did not enjoy too many surprises in a job, and that they'd want everything planned out first before they came for her. But they would come for her, she was sure of it.

"Broekhart!"

Alec jerked her head up to see Tony staring at her from across her desk.

"How long," he asked with a grin. "Have you been zoned out like this?"

"Um," Alec mumbled as she bit her lip and looked at her watch. It was close to five pm now. She'd come back to her desk around noon, and then she'd been toiling through what Tony had called the "Probie Book", reading up on the proper code and conduct of an NCIS agent. And it was, quite simply, one of the worst publications she'd ever had the misfortune to look upon. The book went on about how _proud_ the reader should be for being a member of NCIS, and what an honor it was. It went on to explain the proper way to handle evidence to the correct way to treat a colleague, which Alec could tell Gibbs' team had failed at, immensely. The writers of the "Probie Book" would be absolutely disgusted with the amount of head slaps, snide comments and playful insults that were exchanged on a daily basis.

The only upside to the book was that she was borrowing Tony's old copy, in the margins of which he'd written comments and notes on everything, even doodling some things in. It was the only training manual she'd ever read that included a picture of a hangman and the words "_If you don't want to end up doing this to yourself, put this book down and run away as fast as you can_" written under it on the front page. At some points she'd been laughing hysterically, especially in the "Appropriate Behavior" section, where Tony had also pointed out how many of the rules Gibbs broke daily with his head slapping.

"You're zoning again," Tony told her, which again pulled her from her revelries.

"I just got so caught up in the manual," Alec said, indicating the book with her head. "Something tells me that your copy of it is much more entertaining than, say, McGee's. Are you ever gonna let Gibbs see this?"

"Only if I want to get my head slapped again," Tony grinned at her. "The reason I came over here was to tell you that we found the bullet that killed our guy; it was about 30 feet from the body. The person who moved him obviously didn't try very hard. Though, then again, considering that Abby matched the bullet to a gun belonging to the wife, and she's not exactly high on the IQ charts, I'm guessing she didn't even think that we'd find the bullet. We've got her in custody and Gibbs is talking to her now. We should have this case wrapped up by the end of the night, and because of your status, you don't have to write a report on it, lucky. And no," Tony said, seeing the look on Alec's face. "Not all cases are as easy to solve as this. We've gotten some in the past that have really thrown us for a loop. Even for a first case, this one is truly a no brainer."

"I was wondering why people would sign up for a place like this if this was what all the cases were like," Alec smiled at him. "That would be a truly boring existence."

"That it would, Broekhart," Gibbs stated as he strode in to the bull pen. "The wife cracked and confessed; she killed Petty Officer Robins as an act of revenge."

"Yes, because he'd refused to buy her a pair of shoes, of all things." Ziva came in after Gibbs and walked to her desk. "I do not understand why some women would be vain enough to kill someone that they supposedly love."

Gibbs turned to his team and said, "Well, Nicole Robins will have a lot of time to come up with a good answer for that while she's locked up. All of you get your reports done and then you can go. Broekhart, finish reading the manual."

"Believe it or not, it's mandatory," McGee told her quietly.

"Seriously?" Alec looked aghast. "How could anything like this be mandatory? It's like torture! Are they trying to kill their agents, or get their agents to do it themselves?"

"Don't know, but once you suffer through it, you only have to read it again if you do something bad enough that they believe you need a refresher course. I hope that never happens to me," McGee shuddered. "It was bad enough the first time around; I highly doubt it'll go down any more smoothly the second time." He then turned back to his report on the case.

About half an hour later, Alec was practically falling out of her chair from laughter at one of Tony's comments in the book, which was definitely not helping her ribs at all. In fact, the laughter was infused with gasps of pain. The entire team stared at her, and McGee helped her sit back in her chair more comfortably. Apparently word had spread fast around here about her situation, most likely by way of Abby.

"I don't remember the training manual being so hilarious, and yes, I was given the same manual when I started here," Gibbs said from his desk. "And I believe you're borrowing DiNozzo's copy of it. You wouldn't happen to know what she'd find so amusing in there, would you, Tony?"

"No Boss, no idea." Tony spoke with total seriousness, but his eyes gave him away that his copy might no longer be up to the regulated standards.

Gibbs let the topic slide, and 15 minutes later everyone was handing in their reports and saying their goodbyes before heading home for the night. Gibbs looked across his desk at his newest team member, who was again chuckling, not without some pain, at something in the book. He smiled to himself; God only knew what DiNozzo had done to that book to make her actually enjoy it, thought the book's pure outdated-ness already would make it pretty amusing in modern days. The manual had even been outdated when Gibbs had joined NCIS.

"You ready to go?" Gibbs asked his charge, who looked up with a jolt, winced, and then nodded her head.

"You're going to need to be more careful," Gibbs told her as they entered the elevator. "When your ribs are injured, you need to be careful not to jostle them too much."

"I'm used to having injured ribs; this is nothing new for me," Alec replied. "So, where are we heading?"

"First, we're going to stop by Hastings to get your things and so I can have a little chat with the administrators there. Then, we're going to stop by a store so you can pick up a few things, and then we're headed back to my place."

Alec just nodded and looked out at the road ahead of her. Out of the corner of his eyes, Gibbs could see her take in the sites around her avidly; she obviously wasn't from the D.C. area. He smiled slightly as she looked at the monuments excitedly; he'd have to remember to take her to see them more closely some time.

They enjoyed the companionable silence for a while longer before it ended all too soon when they reached Hastings. Gibbs watched Alec's eyes narrow at the sight of the building, and he told her, "If they try to hurt you again, you have my permission to fight back."

A wide grin spread across Alec's face. "If they come at me, I'll wipe the floor with 'em." She smiled at him. Gibbs couldn't help but let out a very tiny grin of his own at her enthusiasm.

Entering the building, Gibbs watched Alec walk off to the dormitories to grab her things, and then he walked up to the same bored man at the front desk from the night before.

"I'd like to talk to whoever's in charge here," Gibbs said in one of his most intimidating voices. The man jumped up and scurried off to get his boss, not even remembering to ask Gibbs' name.

A moment later he returned with a short, balding, pudgy looking man with a terrible comb over. "What can I do for you, Mr.…?" The man trailed off.

"Gibbs. Agent Gibbs, NCIS. You have one of my team members staying here, Alecxis Broekhart."

The pudgy man looked confused until the slacker from the desk said, "The new girl from last night."

"Ah," the man exclaimed as if a light bulb had just went off in his head. "Her. Well, Agent Gibbs, I'm Joe Morton, and I'm the manager of this home. Now I do remember something about the girl in question. Yes, she started up quite a fuss with some of the rougher children here."

"And you just allow these kids to beat on each other as much as they want?" Gibbs spoke quietly, but anyone who paid attention could tell that he was very, very angry. Mr. Morton was not a man who paid attention to much of anything.

"Well, some children here just need to learn their place," Morton continued obliviously. "The three children she had problems with are somewhat the leaders around here, and when you mess with them, as the children say, you get messed up. It's just how things are. Sometimes, it's good for the kids to get a teaching to; it helps them get off their high horses."

"So you're telling me," Gibbs ground out. "That you're allowing these kids here to work out their own hierarchy here by who does the best in a fight three against one?"

"Well, yes, not exactly like that, but- hey, what exactly _is_ NCIS anyway, I mean, do you have anything to do with funding, or…" Morton trailed off nervously.

Before Gibbs could respond, there were some shouts from the dormitories, and after a glare from Gibbs, Morton followed Gibbs to the dorms. The sight that met them could only make Gibbs grin.

Alec was the center of the fight, as she stood with on foot on the chest of a blond girl with very bad purple highlights, as well as an abundance of piercings and tattoos, as did Alec's other two assailants. She had a boy pinned to the wall by the neck with her elbow, and had another girl, this one with dyed black hair, against the wall, a pocket knife at her throat. The surrounding children all had looks of pure shock and enjoyment painted on their faces; many of them were cheering.

"Oh, hey Gibbs," Alec looked up at him with a smirk. "Told ya I could kick their asses if I tried."

"Let go of me, you bi-" The girl who's throat Alec's knife was against started, but was cut off as Gibbs sauntered up slowly and said, "Hey. Watch it, that's my agent you're talking about."

"Agent?" the girl spat. "Agent of what? You can't honestly be telling me that _she's_ a government agent!"

"I am," Gibbs said calmly. "And she is. The agency is NCIS; look it up," he added, seeing the confused looks on Alec's opponents' faces. "And now if you'll excuse us, we were just leaving. I trust this will never happen to anyone again?" He looked towards Morton, who nodded vigorously, his eyes wide in fear.

"Of course, I'll get right on it," Morton gasped out, and Gibbs could see the grins on many of the kids' faces.

"I'll be back to make sure of it," Gibbs added, which made the kids' grins grow wider.

"You three," Gibbs turned to Alec's assailants. "You ever touch one of these kids here again, and I will get you removed from here so fast your heads will spin. Actually, you guys could be investigated for assault and battery. You're old enough to be tried as adults, don't you think? I'm sure you'd make a lot of friends in prison."

There was fear in the trio's eyes as they stuttered out, "N-no, s-sir. N-never again."

"Good," Gibbs said. "And don't call me 'sir'. Broekhart," he turned to _his agent_- he was surprised at how much he liked thinking that. "Let's move."

"Gotcha, Gibbs," she responded jovially, as she stepped off of the girl and allowed the other two to scuttle off nervously. Gibbs noticed that she was steadfastly not calling him 'Boss' like he knew she must have heard the rest of the team call him. He'd have to talk to her about that.

Gibbs waited for Alec as she grabbed a cardboard box of what he assumed were her belongings, and they exited the building together, Alec humming to herself. Gibbs stared at her, trying to identify the tune; but, then again, if it was one of those songs she'd been playing earlier, he'd never recognize it. But still, it sounded familiar.

Alec noticed his staring and looked at him inquisitively. Then, as realization dawned on her, she stopped humming and said, "Sorry. I'm a bit of a music freak. I don't even notice when I'm humming, or sometimes even singing."

"What song is that?" Gibbs inquired. "I think I may've heard it before, though I can't remember what it is."

"_Beautiful Day_ by U2, I know it's not a new one, and it's kind of cliché, but I love it." Alec looked down, blushing slightly.

"I knew I'd heard it somewhere," Gibbs muttered to himself. Alec's head turned toward him sharply, and he grinned slightly and said, "What? I do actually listen to the radio sometimes."

With that, they fell in to a peaceful silence, save for Alec's continued humming, which Gibbs was surprised to find that he actually found calming.

They stopped by a Wal-Mart, where they bought Alec more changes of clothing and other things, and Gibbs got more sandpaper. When Alec had asked what it was for, he'd just replied, "You'll see."

As they were nearing the check out line, Alec had seen something that caught her eye, and she ran off, only to return a moment later with a pack of Oreos in her hand and a smile on her face. Gibbs just looked at her until she told him, "Everyone loves Oreos."

When the two finally reached Gibbs' home, it was 7pm. Alec had gotten out of the car and slowly stretched, surveying the land around her with a keen eye, taking in every detail. Gibbs noticed this, but made no comment as he helped her carry her belongings into the house.

"Nice place," she said as she stood in the front hall, examining everything with a curious eye.

"Follow me." Gibbs walked past her and up the stairs to the second floor. Once there, he brought her to a room and said, "This is where you'll be staying."

Alec placed her things on the floor next to the white dresser on one wall and continued walking the room. It appeared to be a guest bedroom, though she couldn't imagine Gibbs having many, er, _guests_ that would require their own rooms. It had a double bed with a white frame that matched the dresser against one wall, with simple white sheets on it and a navy blue comforter. The walls were also white with a blue trim. This mildly surprised Alec; Gibbs did not seem like a person who matched his rooms by color and design. As if he knew what she was thinking, Gibbs said, "An ex-wife put together the room."

Alec raised an eyebrow. "_An_ ex-wife?"

"I've got three of them," was the reply. Alec just nodded her head in return.

After a few more moments of silence, Gibbs pointed to a door in the corner of the room and said, "Your bathroom is in there. You can finish getting settled in and I'll go make dinner." Alec raised an incredulous eyebrow. "I _can_ cook, you know," he told her.

Alec placed her things in the dresser and decided to check out the bathroom. It was similarly themed to the bedroom, with the same white and blue walls and matching blue and white tiles on the floor, as well as blue counter tops and towels. She washed her face and looked at herself in the mirror.

Her hair was messy; she started combing it while she looked at her face. She had purple smudges under her eyes, from the lack of sleep, no doubt. She looked at her scars. There was the one above her eye where her father had hit her with a beer bottle, as well as the ones on her jaw from the time her mother had shoved her down so she landed chin first in a pile of shattered glass from, per usual, more broken liquor bottles. But when her eyes reached the scar next to her right ear, she smiled at it fondly. That was one of the few scars with a good memory behind it.

When she and Roland had still been the only teens on Landon's estate, she'd shown him how to make simple pipe bombs. They'd spent the entire day doing it, and laughingly throwing the packing supplies at each other. In the midst of their laughter, Roland accidently set one off. They were all very low grade and did minimal damage, considering that Alec had decided that they should pack it with play-doh as shrapnel. The casings, though, were still metal, albeit very flimsy metal, so when it went off Alec was nicked beneath the ear. It had stung a little, but she was too busy laughing at Roland's play-doh covered visage to care.

The smell of chicken being roasted brought Alec back to the present. She finished fixing her hair and came down the stairs to find Gibbs in the kitchen with-surprise! - roasted chicken. They ate together in companionable silence, which was only broken once when Alec said, "This is really good."

Afterwards, she helped do the dishes and then returned to _her_ room- she was surprised to already be thinking that- and she put more of her things in to place. She had a set of cheap speakers she'd bought at the store which she plugged in, hooked up to her mp3 player, and placed on the dresser. As she sang along with the music, she started going through her bag to see how much of her things the feds had confiscated. They'd taken all of her weapons but her pocket knife, as well as her printout on the painting she was supposed to have lifted. But, when she checked the bag, she found that the double lining was still intact-_ Thank God_.

Carefully separating the two linings, she removed two things- her cell phone, which she kept hidden for instances such as getting caught by the feds, and a photograph of the team hanging out in one of Landon's many living rooms.

The picture had been taken only two months ago. They had been watching a movie, so of course there was food debris covering the room. Zannen, Cal, and Zach were on the couch, with Code sprawled on them, as he'd jumped on top of them moments before the camera went off. Brendan and Ronan were sitting on the floor, and were in the process of moving out of the way of Coaden's feet as he'd dived over them to reach the couch. Roland had been on the floor with Alec in his lap- and no, they weren't together, they were like siblings- trying not to laugh at everyone's antics. Landon himself had been sitting on an armrest, looking fondly at his children, who were like his family.

Alec had to put the picture down to avoid tears coming to her eyes. They were like her family, and though she'd seen them only about two and a half days ago, she felt like she hadn't seen them in forever.

She looked down at her cell phone. She could just call them now, tell them she was okay- but they'd never believe that, they'd be too worried. And besides, couldn't any call made from Gibbs' house be tracked. Alec stared at the phone, and then replaced it and the photo inside the bag's lining and closed it up. Her team would find her, but in the meantime, she didn't want to betray Gibbs' trust, which she seemed to be slowly, but surely gaining.

Deciding to find her host, she went downstairs, but could not see him anywhere, and then, as she neared what he'd told her was the basement door, she heard a scarping sound and a TV. Alec silently opened the door and slipped down the stairs, only to see….a boat. As she watched Gibbs sanding it, she realized why he'd bought so much at the store. A TV was on, but he didn't appear to be watching it. She stood on the bottom step; she thought he hadn't noticed her, until he said, without looking up from his work, "Are you going to come over here or not?"

Alec came over to Gibbs, who handed her a piece of sandpaper and a block of wood and asked, "Have you ever hand sanded before?"

She nodded, and he pointed her towards a part of the boat to work on. They sanded together in silence, save for the TV, until Alec inquired curiously, "Why don't you just use power tools?"

"Because power tools mess up, and when you do it this way, you can feel like you actually accomplished something." Alec seemed satisfied with this, as she nodded and returned to sanding.

Gibbs almost smiled as he remembered Abby's earlier comment about how Alec wouldn't be okay spending her life catching the bad guy and helping to sand his boat. He wasn't sure about the bad guy part, but she seemed to have no problem sanding the boat. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself, so he decided to broach the problem of her refusal to call him "Boss."

"You never call me 'Boss'." He said almost to himself, but he knew she'd heard him.

"Yeah," she basically whispered back.

"Why not?" he asked her, both of them still watching their sanding.

Gibbs watched as Alec seemed to think of an answer. She finally found one, and, taking a deep breath, she whispered, "_Because it makes me feel like a traitor._"

Those words shocked Gibbs. He knew she was loyal, but he'd had no idea how deep that loyalty ran. The fact that she attached so mush sentiment to the word was surprising. Then again, if her Boss had saved her, she would be apt to do that. But whoever that was wasn't her Boss anymore- he was, and he decided to make sure she knew it.

"Calling me your boss wouldn't make you a traitor," he told her. She opened her mouth to respond, but he kept going. "While the guy you've been working for may have _been_ your boss, and I wouldn't be offended if you still thought of him as such, but for the time being, I'm your boss."

"Does that mean you're keeping me on the team?" Alec asked with what Gibbs thought was a hint of hope in her voice.

"Yes, though you may find out that it's not such a good thing," he replied with an evil grin.

Alec smiled happily and the sanded for a while longer, before she yawned hugely and put down her sandpaper.

"I'm gonna go to bed," she told Gibbs, who just nodded in return and continued sanding.

Once she reached the top of the stairs, she stopped and turned around, and, with a smirk, she called, "'Night….Boss."

* * *

**Awwww, she's calling him Boss!!!! But her other boss will be back soon to deal with that. Hint, Hint. Please Review!!!**


	12. Hell Outta Dodge

**Hello, all, sorry, I've been gone for so long, but I was on vacation for 2 weeks and it took me a while to get back in to things. But, this chapter makes up for it; this is where the real plot begins to unfold!!! So, after these responses, on with the chapter!!! So you know, 2 months have gone by since the last chapter. Deal with it. ;)**

_**Your favorite Lab Partner Ever**_**: Yes, everyone does ask about the power tools, that's why I put that in. And this chapter DOES have your pecan pie!! Be grateful!**

_**Kelly**_**: Thanks for the pep talk, and yes, I can gain wrist control. Can you?**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own NCIS or any of its characters; CBS does. I do own Alec and anyone you don't know.**

* * *

_2 Months Pass..._

"But _Gibbs_!" Alec exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air exasperatedly. Sometimes her housemate just didn't understand.

"He's just a baby! He can't fend for himself!" She gestured wildly with her hands as she spoke- well, her mother _was_ Italian, and even if she wasn't much of a mother-which was a total understatement- she had still been around enough that Alec found it next to impossible to talk without using her hands.

"A baby?" Gibbs quirked an eyebrow, looking down at his charge as they entered the elevator. "That thing is definitely not a baby. And I think he can take care of himself, considering he's lasted this long without you."

"Don't refer to him as a thing, it's offensive," she reprimanded him. "And if he's not a baby, then he's the feline version of a teenager. And if you actually _looked_ at him, you'd see that he hasn't been doing well without me! His ribs are still too pronounced, and I've been feeding him for a week! We have to keep him; Thimble needs us!"

"Who's Thimble, and why does he need you?" Tony asked as the pair entered the bull pen. Gibbs sighed; now she was never going to get off the subject.

"Thimble," Alec began. "Is an adorable cat that's been wandering around the neighborhood, and I've been feeding him because he's way too thin. He's not just one of those scavengers, either; he lets me pet him and he likes to cuddle and he needs help and Gibbs is being insufferable and doesn't want to keep him." She finished this speech by sending Gibbs a glare. He just raised his eyebrows in return.

"If I am not mistaken, isn't a thimble an object used to assist in sewing?" Ziva asked, her brow furrowed.

"It is, but he just looks like a Thimble to me. See?" Alec pulled out a picture she'd taken of the cat that morning. Both Ziva and Tony leaned in to see.

The cat looked slightly mangy, with patchy light brown fur, and looked as if someone had just stretched skin over his bones, he was so thin. But unlike most feral cats, he had kind eyes, and he was looking up at the camera with pure adoration for the photographer- namely, Alec.

"Aw look, at the kitty! He's adorable!" Abby exclaimed as she entered the bull pen. "You _are_ keeping him, right?" She sent a meaningful look at Gibbs.

"Gibbs doesn't want to keep him! Can you believe it?!" Alec asked incredulously.

"Gibbs! How could you not want to keep him?! He is a helpless animal who needs a nice person to come and give him a home. You're a nice person, and you have a home; you have to take him!" Abby told him.

Gibbs was trying to think of ways to respond to that when, thankfully, his phone rang.

"Gibbs," he greeted his caller. He received no response.

"Hello?" He asked, silently cursing phones. After a few more moments of silence, he hung up.

Not 5 seconds later, it rang again. Gibbs angrily flipped pen the phone.

"Yes?" He said through gritted teeth.

"Just trying to make sure I had your attention," an unfamiliar voice greeted him jovially, though Gibbs could sense an undertone of pure ice. The voice was male, probably in his 30s, though it's hard to gauge age over the phone. The voice did have one thing that made it stand out- Gibbs could hear a distinct, if faint, Scottish accent.

"And why would you need it?" Gibbs inquired carefully. He couldn't think of who this could possibly be; they had no cases right now, just sifting through paperwork and looking over cold cases. The voice ignored him.

"I'm coming for what's mine." The voice was now flat, devoid of all emotion, except for a seething anger.

"Which is?" Gibbs thought if he should have the call traced, but at that exact time he heard a click and a dial tone. The caller had hung up on him, again.

"Who was that?" Tony asked eagerly. "I'm dying for a case right now."

At that moment Gibbs' phone rang again, but this time it was to inform him of a case. '_Speak of the devil,'_ Gibbs thought.

As the team geared up for their new case, Gibbs made a mistake, and Gibbs almost never makes mistakes. He let the phone call slip to the back of his mind, ignoring how his famous gut protested that it should be his main worry. As always, his gut was right.

* * *

The case turned out to be so open and shut that it was actually quite pitiful. The body of a marine had been found, the cause of death was from an overdose of heroin. A quick trip to his best friend's house confirmed it- friend killed him for the heroin. It wasn't even hard to find, considering it was sitting on the coffee table. They'd finished it by the end of the day, and then went home, leaving their reports for the next morning.

"This is just like yesterday, except with added paperwork," Tony whined. He felt bad to say it, but he really wished someone would die and give him something to do.

'_Not a good person, but a druggie like the last case, or maybe a murderer or criminal or a thief or-' _Tony stopped that thought. He, like the rest of the team, now held the word "thief" in a new light with a new meaning. Thieves weren't always evil; they just were more often than not, at least in Tony's experience. But Tony knew for a fact that not all of them were bad; one of his newest friends was a testament to that case.

The elevator dinged, and a courier stepped out. He looked around nervously, and then said, "I have a package for a Special Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs signed for the package, and then glared at the boy until he scurried off to the safe haven of the elevator.

Sitting back down at his desk, Gibbs looked at the package in front of him. It had no return address; that's probably why a courier service was used. That already set off his gut, telling him that something was amiss. The rest of the team also appeared to be eyeing the package warily.

Opening the end, Gibbs slid out a single object, an unmarked CD case with a single disc inside. Gibbs wondered if it contained some kind of virus that would mess with the system until he saw that written on the disk was a note- _Stop being so paranoid Agent Gibbs; I don't give a crap about your computers._

Gibbs still called McGee over and had him check out the disc. The agent told him, after poking around its files, and some help from Abby, that it appeared that the note was true, the disc contained no harmful software, just a video file. Though they hadn't been called over, the team, including Abby, was now crowded around Gibbs' computer, eager to see who would send Gibbs a video. With a nod from Gibbs, McGee hit play.

At first the screen stayed dark. Then it faded in, and the silhouette of a man could be seen; behind him was a bedroom.

The walls were a vibrant aqua blue color, as was the bedspread. There was a black wooden desk with many picture frames on it, though all had been turned face down. There was a large bay window with white sheer curtains next to the bad that gave a view of a spectacular lawn with a huge reflecting pool. The only things visible in the distance were the rolling hillside and many, many trees.

Before the man even spoke, though, Gibbs heard Alec gasp. She knew this place. She knew it very, very well.

"Agent Gibbs," the shadowed man greeted, and Gibbs recognized the voice- it was the man who'd called him.

"You seem to have disregarded our little talk," the voice continued. Ziva looked towards Gibbs for an explanation, but the look in his eyes said that he'd explain later.

"I do not like to be ignored," the voice growled, suddenly devoid of any earlier cheeriness.

"Like I informed you earlier, Agent Gibbs, you have something that belongs to me, or should I say _someone_. I want that _her_ back. And if you can't realize by now of whom I am speaking, then I greatly overestimated you, Agent Gibbs." Gibbs was pretty sure he knew who the man was talking about, but he didn't want to admit it to himself or to anyone else, for that matter. The voice continued.

"I'll give you a hint: No, it's not Officer David, or Miss Sciuto." There was a collective gasp as the proverbial light bulb flicked on for everyone but Gibbs and Alec. Gibbs had seen this coming and ignored his gut- just another instance of why his gut was never wrong. Alec had known the man's identity since she'd seen his outline.

"Yes, I'm assuming you've all just figured it out, though I'm assuming you, Agent Gibbs, knew something was amiss from my phone calls, unless your reputation lies. And Alec, I'm guessing you of all people would recognize this room, and who I was. Unless someone gave you those snack cakes recently, in which case you're probably hopeless and dead to the world, either working off the sugar high or going in to withdrawal."

Alec grinned widely- only he would bring her love of sugary snack cakes like Twinkies up at a time like this. Her grin only got bigger when Tony raised an eyebrow at her, though she then quickly quashed it as she remembered that this was a serious occasion.

"No, Alec, I'm not offended that you have been choosing to follow these people's orders, or that you've taken on a temporary boss. But that's what you are for her, Agent Gibbs- a temporary boss. She belongs to me, and I fully intend to get her back and bring her home."

Gibbs growled slightly. This man knew how to push his buttons, and he was playing him like a piano. NO ONE played Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"And now, I believe that you should be experiencing some technical difficulties," the voice said.

All lights and everything electronic turned off at that moment as the power was cut from everything but Gibbs computer.

The voice laughed softly. "No," it said. "This is not a live feed, as I'm sure Miss Scuito and Agent McGee are now wondering. This is just a video. But this little demonstration was to let you know, Agent Gibbs, just how close my people and I are. Have you wondered yet why your generators have not flipped on? Or how only this computer stays on, while the rest of your building is electricity-free? My people cut your power, Agent Gibbs, and your generators, purposely leaving the power supply to this unit unharmed. That's right, Agent Gibbs, my people are in this building as we speak. And not only that, but how do you think they knew when to cut the power? They'd have to be watching you watch this video to get the timing correct." Gibbs squeezed the butt of his gun until his knuckles were white, and then some. These people were in his building NOW. They were watching him NOW. The man laughed, as if he could see Gibbs' face from his recording time in the past.

"Yes, right again- it's because they are. No, don't look for them, look at me. Well, actually, you can look if it makes you feel better, but you won't see them." Tony and Ziva looked around wildly, not wanting to miss a moment of the video, but trying in vain to see these people.

"And now, the power should return to you." The lights flicked back on. "Now, Agent Gibbs, the moral of this lesson: I am close, I have power and will use it if necessary, and I don't take the kidnapping of one of my family lightly. I don't care if kidnapping is politically correct, because I, and the rest of my family, are in an agreement that it still feels like a kidnapping when a member of your own is taken. So, with that, farewell Agent Gibbs. We may be meeting soon, depending on how things go. But, otherwise, I'll leave you with this: If you harm her, you will wish you were never born when I'm through with you." The video faded to black, and it was over.

Alec could feel the stares of the team, as well as others on the floor who were wondering what the curious video was that had stayed on during the random blackout. The stares were expectant, so she whispered, "That's my boss."

"You mean your old boss," Abby interjected. Alec had told her of her dilemma to use the word at one of the many sleepovers Abby had demanded they have. Abby had steadfastly insisted that their fearless leader was a better boss, and that she'd come to realize that her old boss didn't compare.

"Call him what you will, he's still threatening an agent," Gibbs growled. They weren't really threatening her, but if they planned to take her, Gibbs called that a threat.

"Why did he say you'd recognize that room?" Ziva asked softly. She and Alec had an understanding, and respect for each other. They could even now consider the other a friend.

Alec looked up at the team through her dark hair, which was now shadowing her eyes. She took a breath, and said quietly, "It's my room. That's why I'd recognize it. The pictures, the ones that were face down; I know what each of them is of, because they're mine. They were down so you couldn't tell who was in them."

"What's your _boss'_ name?" Gibbs asked, sneering at the word 'boss'.

Alec shook her head no; she wouldn't tell them.

"Are you saying you _want_ to go back there? That we haven't done enough for you to want to stay around? That all of this was just _temporary_ for you?" Gibbs asked the questions rapid fire, and then stopped when he saw Alec flinch and step back, wide eyed and, well, _scared_. He cursed himself for letting his mask of cool indifference slip, and gestured to her.

"You," he said. "With me. You're on lockdown from now on. The rest of you," he gestured to the team. "Find me where that video is from!"

Gibbs informed the director of this new occurrence and told him to check with his team to see the video. He then grabbed two agents, not from his team, but ones that would be suitable for guard duty, and took them all to one of the few places Gibbs trusted to be safe: his basement.

He brought Alec down with some food, and then left only to return with Thimble, who was eyeing him warily and had left an angry red scratch mark on his hand.

Gibbs dropped him in Alec's arms, stating, "Stay down here, and you can keep the cat. Just make sure the damn thing doesn't try to use my boat as a scratching post."

With that, he left her with the two agents, Patterson and her old friend Sanders, so he could go assist in tracking down Landon. Not that Alec had told him Landon's identity, nor would she ever. She didn't betray people's trust.

Alec held the cat in her arms and stroked him as he purred contently, wondering what to do. Agent Sanders came down the stairs, a plate in his hand.

"Want some pie?" he asked. "It's pecan. Everybody loves pecan pie."

"Sure," Alec smiled, and she took the pie gratefully. He was right; everyone does love pecan pie. Or, at least she did.

He went back upstairs, leaving her with the very bored looking Patterson and Thimble, who followed her around the basement, hoping she'd drop some crumbs.

As Alec skimmed the contents of Gibbs workbench, she came across an extremely unsettling sight: the papers needed to get Alec transferred off of Gibbs team. With Gibbs signature.

Alec snatched them up and scanned for a date, mentally pleading that they were old and from before Gibbs really got to know her. They were dated last week.

She set them down with a sick feeling of dread and slumped against the wall. She faintly heard Sanders call Patterson upstairs, but she paid them no mind. She was too bust hyperventilating.

Alec refused to go to prison, which is where she would no doubt end up if she was removed from the team. Why would Gibbs want to get rid of her? She'd thought they'd been getting along, but apparently she was wrong. Gibbs wanted her gone.

But why would he have taken her here, her more calm side asked. Explanation: If she was here then the gang couldn't get to her before she was carted off to jail. Oh, yes, Alec was letting her paranoid side come out and play, and she was totally and steadfastly ignoring any semblance of reason.

Alec looked around the basement. She had her bag, which always held her essentials and anything important to her so she could leave quickly, like in this case. She grabbed it and stuffed in some food, and then some of the cat food that she'd been feeding Thimble, as well as the cat himself. He would come with her; Gibbs wouldn't want him with her gone, he was probably just a bribe to make her stay and not question Gibbs. The paranoid side was having a field day.

Alec snuck silently up the stairs; she'd long ago learned where they creaked so she could avoid those spots. Looking around warily, she could hear the two agents in the living room. She went towards the back door, opened it without a sound, and she Got the Hell Outta Dodge.

* * *

**So you know, the Pecan Pie is a major shout out to LH, who keeps bugging me for it. It's use in this story, as well as the insistence that Alec MUST have a cat that MUST be named Thimble, were given to me by my little sister. Everyone, please review, reviews show you care!!!**


	13. The Lives and Minds of Criminals

**All right, this is seriously late, but it's my new longest chapter ever, so I don't feel too bad, sorry! Anyways, this is all from the gang's side of things, namely Zannen's. Hope you all like it! And by the way, I tried to post this last night, but Document Manager was down and wouldn't let me.**

_**Your Favorite Lab Partner**_**: Thanks, you'll see why.**

_**Kelly**_**: Thank you, and you're weird, then! Everyone loves pecan pie! It's like a rule!**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own NCIS or any of its characters; they all belong to CBS. I do own Alec and the gang and anyone you don't know. The song **_**California Justice**_** is by Five For Fighting; I don't own Ocean's 11, either, or the game Monopoly.**

* * *

Zannen leaned back in his chair with a smug smile on his face as he removed his headset. The video had been a total success; everything had gone off without a hitch. He'd made sure everyone was in their places and that all movements were synchronized.

That's why he was usually the team leader; he was the strategist, the man with the plan. Even though Cal was the oldest and Roland had been on the team longest, both were willing to stand back and let him do all the work, or as Roland put it, "All the thinking."

He ran his hand through his thick, dark, slightly curly hair. Everything was going according to plan, but he was still apprehensive. Mainly because one of his team members was behind enemy lines. None of the gang could be truly happy with one of their own gone, though they could put on quite a good act.

"Hey, Zan-Man! Zach's taking a nap. Pansy." Zannen looked up to see Roland enter the hotel room, a big, goofy grin adorning his features.

"Hey, Rol," he sighed as he stood and stretched his arms above his head. He felt Roland still smiling at him and he looked up at his face. "Looking up" because even though Zannen Harst was considerably tall, even for an 18 year old, Roland at the same age still had two inches on him.

"What's the smile for?" Zannen asked him.

"Just a little happy, is all," Roland said, practically bouncing from his heels to his toes and back. "We're gonna get Ally back!"

That was the one happy thought anyone had these days. That and the heads of a few people at NCIS on a stick. Vance was on that list, for giving Alec a job, because she already had a job with the gang and the thought of her somewhere else pissed them off. Also Gibbs, just because they didn't like him, no matter how nice he'd been to Alec. He was still involved with taking her away, and was to be dealt with accordingly- that was, if Landon would actually let them torture people and them burn them at the stake.

Zannen smiled back at his friend. It was at times like this that it was hard to believe that Roland was really the criminal who tased his "marks" and sometimes fought them ruthlessly to knock them out if it was necessary to getting the prize. Though he never killed anyone. Not one member of the gang had ever killed anyone, and they planned for it to stay that way.

It was even harder to believe who Zannen was, sometimes. He had been born in Germany, but had been moved around a lot, having a father who was part of the American military and was often re-stationed, and he'd landed in London. All of his traveling made his accent quite untraceable; he normally sounded either British or American, depending on his mood. He only pulled out the German around the gang, whom he trusted and felt comfortable around. He didn't feel comfortable around many people, but then, any self-respecting criminal was like that, and Zannen had been one for a while.

_Flashback of Sorts_

Zannen's entry into the criminal world was quite tumultuous. It had begun, one could say, from the fact that his single parent father decided that his job was more important than him, and ignored him more often than not, never seeming to care what he did, where or when he went, or who he was with. He just didn't seem to care, period. So Zannen fell in with a group of kids in London. The kids were basically a rough and tumble gang, the kind that could be found at any street corner at night. But unlike the normal groups of petty thieves, Zannen's group was in to bigger things.

He'd been the youngest of the group at 14, like everyone's younger brother. The leader, Gerry, had been somewhat Landon-esque; he'd been the paternal figure Zannen had never had in his own father.

Gerry's gang went for mansions, penthouses, even the occasional museum. Zannen's role had at first been that of every newcomer, to learn the tricks of the trade. But he'd shown to be very adept at planning the heists, and had soon become Gerry's main consult. Everything had gone well, until the botched job when he was 16.

It was actually very similar to the job Alec had been on- the team went in to a supposedly empty mansion with the intent of lifting a series of small obsidian statues that would bring in quite a pretty amount. But they'd been caught by a silent alarm, and the police had shown up not long after. The entire inside team had been caught.

Zannen and Gerry had been among the few not in the retrieval team, but had been ousted by one of the members with a weaker breaking point. Both had been brought in, and Gerry, at 19, was sent to federal prison.

Zan was to be sent to a juvenile corrections facility. In fact, he'd been on his way there when the van had screeched to a halt, due to an apparent vehicle in its path. Because he'd been in the back of the van with his hands bound in front of him, he could only watch as the driver exited the van, as well as his guard, who first sent a firm glare in his direction.

He couldn't see what was happening, but Zannen could hear a commotion, but only make out a few words and the sounds of a scuffle, which edged closer and closer to the back door, which was nearest him.

There was some shouting, a few grunts, and then an audible zapping sound and a thud. Then all was deathly still. Zannen heard the murmur of voices outside the door and the sound of a key entering the lock. It clicked, and the handle was turned, and when the door swung open, he faced what he didn't expect- a group of teenagers.

One was a boy about his age, though probably a little taller than he was, with burnt red-brown hair and a big grin. The next was a boy who was older than him, probably 19, but shorter and with cropped, dirty blond hair and an exasperated but affectionate expression aimed at the other boy.

The third was a girl, who had many more scars than anyone her age should. They were mostly small, and all looked old- they peppered her skin almost like freckles, but you had to look closely to see most of them because, not only were they small, but she'd used some sort of makeup on them to make them less pronounced. The girl was younger than him, maybe 14. She had black hair, even darker than his own, and it fell loosely over her shoulders. As she ducked her head to remove his binds, it fell like a curtain in front of her eyes. She had gorgeous eyes, a deep green that reminded him of forests. He unconsciously blushed, but it went unnoticed by the trio.

"What the hell?" he wondered aloud at his "saviors."

"We're not in Hell, that's in Michigan!" the taller boy mock chastised with a Southern accent that may or may not have been real, all the while never loosing his grin.

"So cheesy," the girl muttered under her breath as she finished uncuffing him and, to Zannen's slight sadness, took a step back. He jumped out of the van unconsciously.

"You okay, kid?" the older boy asked him, sounding not only British, but Cockney. Zannen's head moved back and he blinked rapidly, just realizing that he'd been staring at nothing in particular.

"Yeah; don't call me kid," he growled, which caused the tall boy to laugh out loud and slap him on the back, which forced him to take a step forward.

"I like you," he drawled. Apparently the accent was real, which would make him American. He held out his hand.

"Name's Roland Loch," he introduced himself and Zan tentatively took his hand and shook it. Roland continued as he slung his arm around Zannen's shoulders, which he wasn't sure how he felt about.

"And this hideous creature here is Calean Reeves, or Cal, as we call him," he gestured at the older boy, who in turn shot him the bird with a scowl on his face, and then nodded at Zannen.

"This," Roland moved his arm with a flourish as he gestured at the girl, who rolled her eyes. "This lovely, scowling young lady is Alecxis Broekhart, but she goes by Alec, and if you make a crack about her last name, she'll disembowel you." Alec smiled happily and seemed satisfied with this.

"And you're all here because…" Zannen trailed off, waiting for them to fill in the blanks.

"To break you out, why else would we have knocked out a prison van and its entire staff?" Cal looked at him like he was insane.

Alec turned to him and said with an American accent, probably Northeastern, "First, 'its entire staff' consists of two people, big whoop; they went down easy enough once Rol introduced them to his friend." Roland held up a taser with a wicked grin on his face.

"Also," she continued. "He meant _why_ did we break him out, not what were we doing. It's kinda obvious that we're breaking him out."

"And that, ladies and gents, was a visit from your favorite and mine, Captain Politically Correct!" Cal deadpanned, and she smacked him upside the head.

"Um," Zannen mumbled, trying to remind them that he was there.

"Oh yeah!" Roland hit his forehead with his hand. "Sorry man, we kinda forgot ya were here! Who wants to do the honors?" He looked at his companions.

Alec responded, "Well, you did it for me, and I did it for Cal, so I think it's about time Cal gets to do it." They looked at Cal expectantly.

"Oh bloody joy," Cal mumbled before standing up straighter.

"We," he gestured at his group. "Are, like you, criminals. Thieves, conmen, arsonists in some cases."

"Which are you?" Zannen asked warily. Cal laughed.

"Well, we're all thieves, but I myself am a conman; Alec here is the arsonist and Rol specializes in taking people down- especially with a taser. We all work under one boss- the same boss who sent us out here to pick you up."

"Why?" Zannen inquired curiously.

"'Cause the boss thinks you would make a good addition to the team," Alec told him. "You see, we're all great at what we do- he wouldn't have picked us if we weren't- but when it comes to planning, we're most likely to doodle some stick figures on a napkin and call it a plan. Basically, we run in and go with the flow, which is very, very dangerous in this profession. Boss says we need a strategist, and you're it."

"What if I don't want to be it?" Zan said defiantly. He didn't like people deciding things for him.

"Then we have Roland here knock you out- which would be a real shame since he's taken a shine to you as a new friend- and we tie you up and drug you so you won't remember us, we do the same for the staff, and we leave, and you'll never see us again," she said somewhat coldly.

"And what's behind Door Number 2?" he asked with a weak smile. Roland grinned at his small joke and answered him.

"You get to come with us, live in a freakin' awesome mansion, travel around the world, do what you love- lifting stuff- you get your own room, which you can do whatever you want with, there's awesome grounds and a huge pool, a huge state-of-the-art entertainment system and game room, a lounge room, a giant kitchen that's always stocked, any car you want, and a whole crapload of cash from the stuff we take. Oh, and you won't go to the slammer. Basically, your dream life on a platter with a bow on top."

"What do I have to do?" Zan narrowed his eyes. There had to be a price tag there somewhere; it seemed too good to be true. _And if something seems too good to be true, it most likely is,_ he thought.

"Just do what you were already doing in London, just with us," Cal said.

"I can leave if I want to?" he asked.

"Yeah, though I don't see why you would," Cal told him. Zannen sighed.

"Where do I sign?" he muttered, and Roland smiled so hard Zannen though his face would crack. Alec was grinning at him, too, and Cal gave him a tight smile.

"This way!" Roland shouted and ran off to what Zannen now saw was a huge black SUV. Alec jogged after him.

"Hey," Cal said softly to get his attention. Once he had it, he continued.

"Don't try to take advantage of them," he nodded at Roland and Alec. "They may seem naïve, but they're far from it, and they've already had enough crap in their lives. If you give them the chance, they can be the best friends you'll ever make. And about the whole wanting to leave thing? Boss doesn't force us to do anything; we're all doing things on our own accord, just following his orders. He's a good man, or as good as a criminal could be. What I mean is, he's a gentleman. If you really want to go, he'll let you leave, though once you're in the fold, chances are you'll never want to leave. And no, I don't mean that in a creepy way; I mean you don't leave your family, and that's what we are here- a family. So I'm allowing you in to my family, saying this: if you mess with my family, I'll mess you up. Remember that, and I think we'll get along swimmingly." He gave Zannen a bright smile.

"You've got potential, kid," he told him. "Use it." With that, Cal hopped in the driver's seat of the car and honked the horn at him.

"Let's move!" Roland shouted, gesturing him in to the SUV.

With one last look around him, Zannen hopped in, leaving his old life behind, and speeding off to meet with Oz himself, the Boss man, Maxwell Landon. And, like all of Landon's gang, he felt it was the best decision he'd ever made.

_End Flashback_

"Hey, Zan."

"Zaa-aaan."

"ZAN!" Roland's shout pulled Zannen from his memories and back to the present.

"Huh?" was his eloquent response.

"You totally zoned, man. Where were you?"

Zan responded, "Just thinking about when I met you guys, actually."

"Well, of course! I mean, meeting me is everyone's fondest memory!" Roland gave him a superior smirk. He struck a pose. "It's 'cause I'm so shmexy, right? Yeah, I know it is."

"Yeah, that's gotta be it," Zannen mumbled. Rol was about to protest when Zannen's phone rang- it was his ringtone for the Boss, _California Justice_ by Five For Fighting (he'd heard Alec playing it once and had taken a liking to it, and the gang all agreed that it fit Landon well)- so Roland settled for sticking his tongue out.

"Hey, Landon," Zan greeted.

"Hi, Boss!" Roland shouted before Landon could reply. Zannen put the phone on speaker and Landon could be heard chuckling at Roland's antics.

"You're on speaker, Boss man," Zannen told him.

"Good, is everyone present?" was the reply.

"Nah, just Rol and me."

"Well get the others here," they were told.

"Not sure who's where Boss, lemme see if anyone's in the other room other than Zach," Roland spoke before leaving the room to check the other hotel room rented by the gang.

"Why don't you know?" Landon asked warily. Ever since Alec's disappearance, he's become even more overprotective than he'd been previously, and he hated not knowing where his team was.

"Well, Brendan and Ronan were on the roof of the building across the street from NCIS. Bren was able to knock the electricity from there and keep Gibbs' computer running, and Ro messed with the cameras so they all either showed a loop or were turned away from us. They took a cab after and are probably sightseeing if they're not back yet. You know them, history freaks." Zannen chuckled fondly.

"I believe we're all something of history freaks here, Zannen," Landon said, a smile clear in his voice. "Considering the objects we…take an interest to and decide to…commandeer as our own. And that's not even mentioning Roland's affection for architecture and interior design from the 17th century and earlier." Zannen grinned; Roland's love of old architecture was another surprising thing about him that not many knew. Even fewer knew that Alec also loved English estates and mansions and had an affection for speakeasies from the American Prohibition.

"What about everyone else?" Landon inquired.

"Cal put on a suit and was able to get in without a hitch- it's amazing that he can so easily create a valid ID for a supposedly extremely secure building. Or the building has cruddy security, which Brendan would love to rant about. Anyway, he was able to sneak himself, Roland and Zach in and they cut the back-up generators and lights. Coaden had it hardest- he was actually in the room when they watched the video. We had him wear a camera in his hat and watch from the background. No one noticed that their meek little delivery boy never actually went _in_ the elevator. Alec had her headphones in when he delivered the package and was playing solitaire, so naturally she was absolutely oblivious to everything and didn't see him. We had him stand in the background and watch the video, just like everyone else in the room. Lucky for us he's so short he could duck behind the other people when those agents started looking around. I watched the live feed from here and synchronized everyone's movements. Then, after, he just walked down the stairs and out the building. I swear, these people are so ignorant. All the better for us though."

"I'd like a copy of that video," Landon said. "And where were they to head after our little airing?"

"Oh yeah," Zan recalled. "They were supposed to all exit calmly, like they belonged, and leave at slightly separate times. Rol and Zach left last. They actually dressed as maintenance workers and the NCIS Idiots brought them down to see what went wrong with their system. It was awesome; they flashed the IDs Cal made them and that's how we got them in. Hell, after they finished their work in the basement, the Idiots asked them down there to help. And they were all too happy to help. It was priceless."

"Dressing them so the personnel would allow them in to the building, and while they were supposedly helping they were able to perform criminal acts? Why, Zannen, did you take a page from Ocean's 11?" Landon sounded amused.

"It was on TV a few nights ago. You know how much I love that movie. And it just fit so well, I couldn't resist."

"I'm ba-ack!" Roland sang as he entered the room, followed by a bed headed Zach, Ronan with a laptop, Brendan, Cal still in a suit and Code wearing a backwards delivery boy hat.

"I was so afraid you'd gotten lost," Zannen deadpanned.

"Had to wake this one up." Roland pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Zach.

"Is everyone accounted for _now_?" Landon asked, playfully annoyed.

"Yeah, gang's all here, Boss," Cal said.

"I'm guessing you want Code's surveillance video?" Ronan said, his cursor hovering over the send button on his email.

"Yes, please Ronan, if you would."

"Sending it to you now, Boss," Ronan called out.

"Guys, this is bad," Brendan said nervously, looking down at a handheld video screen. "I hooked up a series of cameras in and around Gibbs' place after we heard his plans to take Broekhart to his basement."

"Yeah, we're going to form a plan to get past the guards and get her. That's why we're here now," Zannen replied, not liking the worry in his friend's voice.

"That's not going to work," Bren said.

"Why won't it work, Brendan?" Landon's voice came quietly from the phone's speaker.

"Because Alec's already gone." Brendan looked up, fear obvious in his eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Zannen ground out. He was very close to shouting, but he knew that he shouldn't take out whatever the problem was on Brendan- he was the Australian-born American-raised 17 year old security and electronics specialist; whatever went wrong wasn't his fault.

"Look at this." He turned the video for all to see. "I'll dictate what's happening for you, Boss."

"That would be appreciated," Landon said.

"Okay, she's in the basement here. There's one of the idiot agents talking to her; he's giving her pie. Pecan, by the looks of it. Everyone loves pecan pie; how could she resist? See, here she takes a few bites. She's got that cat following her; wow, poor thing is in bad shape; I can see why she took him in. Anyways, she puts down the plate to pick up some paper she finds on the workbench. I had to install the cameras hastily and they had to be small, so the quality isn't good enough to see what it says, but whatever it is, it freaks her out. She's seriously spazzing, having a panic attack. Now she's sitting down against the wall; she's starting to hyperventilate. Damn, I wish I knew what that paper said! Now she's grabbing her bag, filling it with stuff- food, cat food, even the cat. She's sneaking up the stairs, gets past the crappy guards and is out the door. She creeps past my outdoor camera at the street corner and…she's gone. That's all I've got; I have no idea where she is now."

The group was silent before Brendan asked quietly, "Should we try calling her? I mean, her phone's been off all this time, but maybe she turned it on?"

"It's worth a shot," Landon's voice said.

Everyone was quiet as Zannen put his phone on conference call so Landon could herar as well and dialed Alec's number. They waited nervously as the phone rang, once, twice, three times, and then…

"Hello?" a voice said warily; none of the gang's phones showed on caller ID, even for each other. They could only tell who was calling by the different ring tones.

The entire group had face splitting grins, and Landon could be heard sighing in relief.

"Hey, Ally!" Roland shouted gleefully.

"Loch! Oh my God, I've missed you guys so much! The gang's with you, right?" Alec sounded extremely happy.

"We're all here, Alec," Zan said joyfully. "And the Boss is on conference. Why'd you leave the NCIS Idiot's- I mean, _Gibbs'_ house?"

"How'd you guys know- wait, why am I asking that? Of course, shoulda known you'd be watching. Friggin' stalker psychopaths…" She laughed, and so did the gang, just happy to be able to hear her voice again.

"Anyways, I found this, um, thing at Gibbs' place, and it, um-"

"Yeah, that paper! What did it say? We couldn't see; it was driving me insane!" Brendan interrupted her at a rapid fire pace.

"You are so creepy sometimes. Well, it said, that, um, that Gibbs was trying to transfer me off the team." She muttered the last part.

All of the team was confused as to what this would really entail, except for Ronan, who had researched her file and knew what that would mean, who whispered, "That bastard!"

"What?" Coaden asked. "Why? Why's he a bastard? I mean, other than the obvious reasons, of course."

"Because if I get transferred off the team, then I get sent directly to jail. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200." Alec sounded melancholy.

"That bastard!" the rest of the gang said in unison, excluding Landon, who wasn't as coarse unless he was truly pissed.

"Yeah, well, I'm now officially a fugitive of the law- ya know, more than I was before. So yeah, I'm kinda screwed!" Alec laughed humorlessly.

"Well we're in the area," Zannen said excitedly. "So just tell us where you are and we'll come pick you up."

"'Kay. I'm in front of a big office building on a street called, um…What the?!" There was a loud thud, a clatter, a scrambling sound, a click and a dial tone.

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**Oooh, what happened? I know, and if you review, I'll share with you in the next chapter…So review!!!**


	14. Trash Bags

**Yep, pure laziness, that's me! I kept starting to write this, staring at it, and reading other people's fics. Only my sheer, unadulterated laziness can lead to things like this! Oh well, I'm hear now, with quite the chapter for you. There's a bit of a twist here, due to a very bad plan of the gang's, and, hehe, I'm so proud of it! Here ya go, new chapter!**

_**728849885**_**: Um, hi to you too!**

_**Addy**_**: Thank you very much!**

_**Kelly**_**: I already said lots of this is based off of the ****Thieves**** books, so step off! I have that book from the library now, and that line is not in there!!! HA!!!**

**Disclaimer: ****I don't own NCIS or any of its characters, they belong to CBS. I do own Alec and her team and anyone you don't know.**

**Warning!!!: There is the introduction of a gay couple in this chapter. It's very mild, only mentioned so far, and is between two male original characters. If you're a homophobe, I'm warning you now so you don't spaz at me. If you do, I'll tell you now that I have a secret wish to get a bad review so I can morally degrade you and make fun of you for your own views. So here's the warning: There's a gay couple, and if that offends you, you can bite me. I'm not warning for it ever again. And if you flame me, I'll be delighted and make fun of you in the beginning of my next chapter. So there you go!**

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Gibbs entered the house with a feeling of slight trepidation, but he promptly quashed it. Not only did he have a reputation of being unflappable to keep up, but it was also his own home, making the feeling even more unexpected. But he'd ignored his gut once before when it came to his youngest team member, and look where that had got him so far. He wouldn't ignore it again; Gibbs placed one hand on his gun before opening the door.

Entering his kitchen, he saw the two agents he'd assigned as guards sitting at the table, coffee in front of them. One of them- Patterson was his name- refilled his cup. As he went to take a drink from it, Gibbs snatched it from his hand.

"Why," he asked, with his signature Gibbs glare, patent pending. "Are the both of you _up here_, while my agent is alone _down there_, completely unguarded?" He took a sip of the coffee and grimaced; this mud shouldn't be allowed to grace itself with the good name of coffee. Not only was it bad, but it had been made with his coffee pot. It was a disgrace.

"Er, sorry, Agent Gibbs, sir," Patterson stuttered out, his eyes wide. Gibbs decided to go easy on him- or as easy as Gibbs could go. He liked the kid; he was young and often naïve, but he had potential to be a good agent, if he'd only stop being so nervous. "Don't 'sir' me," Gibbs told him, slanting him a look. Patterson looked very flustered, stuttering, "Yes, si- I mean, Agent Gibbs."

"So," Gibbs continued. "Why is it that you two aren't watching my agent?" Patterson had manners enough to look ashamed, while Sanders didn't look guilty in the least. Oh, he did his best to slap on a "sorry" face, but he looked smug about something. Gibbs did not like that smug look one bit; it only encouraged his anxious feelings. Sanders was too happy with himself, and Gibbs _would_ find out why. But first, he wanted to check on his agent.

Because it appeared that neither of the agents in front of him was planning on moving anytime soon, Gibbs sighed and walked toward his basement door himself. On his way, he noticed that his trash can was lined with a black trash bag. This wouldn't have been out of the norm if it weren't for the fact that Gibbs used black bags for outdoor things- they were much sturdier- and he specifically remembered putting a white bag in his trash can that very morning. It was another thing he'd need to check on- but it would have to wait for later. He had an agent to see.

Gibbs began the descent down his basement stairs and was again greeted by the feeling that something was amiss. After giving his basement a cursory glance, he immediately noticed that his foreboding feelings had been, as always, correct. Something was very, very wrong.

Alec Broekhart was not here.

Gibbs had a sudden want to go wring the necks of the so-called "guards" who were currently in his kitchen; they hadn't even done a half-assed job, or even a quarter-assed. Considering the only way out of the basement was up the stairs and through the kitchen, she must have passed right by them while leaving.

And the reason for why Alec was gone was one that right now, Gibbs didn't want to touch with a ten-foot pole. If he thought about it too much, he'd be too focused on all of the "What-ifs" and the "Would she reallys" that he'd be distracted from his real objective: To find Broekhart, **now**.

He gave the basement a cursory glance to see if, possibly, she could have been taken by force. But he could see nothing out of place- except for some things on his work bench. Gibbs made his way to the bench with a determined stalk. He stopped and looked at the space in front of him, mentally cataloging what was out of place.

All of his tools were always hung up, and there was currently a hammer lying on the table; that was one thing out of place. Also, some papers had been shuffled around and were now out of order. Considering they were all boring paperwork, case reports and such, he couldn't really fathom why anyone would have wanted to go through them. They didn't contain anything that couldn't easily have been found in public records, or at least declassified ones that any government official had access to.

Gibbs could find no signs of a struggle, which left him with a heavy heart. All of her personal possessions were missing, further suggesting that she'd left on her own accord. Hell, even the damn cat was gone!

As he took the stairs two at a time, Gibbs already had his cell phone out and dialing. He waited through the ringing, until the phone was picked up on the third ring. "Boss," was the greeting; Gibbs was always a little put off by caller ID, it confused him.

"DiNozzo, Broekhart's missing," he replied, purposely saying it loud enough for the two agents in his kitchen to hear; he wanted to see their reactions to the news. And boy, did they not disappoint. Patterson's jaw dropped, then shut, then dropped again. With his eyes bugging out of his head, he looked like he a fish out of water. He was squirming like one, too.

Though Patterson was the one who appeared to be nervous, Gibbs knew him well enough to know it was due to his nervousness at Alec's location, not at being caught for anything. Sanders, on the other, hand, was a whole different story.

He looked surprised, but he held the face for too long; he was putting on a show. Not only was his surprise obviously fake- well, at least to Gibbs- but to any trained investigator his eyes would have given him away. They were gleeful, like a child on Christmas day, or rather, one who'd just caught all the big kids in a prank and was watching them realize they'd been had.

"What?!" Tony barked into the phone, pulling Gibbs from his observations. "When did- I mean how- Wait, what?!" Tony reacted exactly as Gibbs had expected him to, so he didn't make a comment about the tone that he'd employed.

"She's gone, and by the looks of things, she left willingly. Though how she got by the two agents who were _supposed_ to be watching her, I don't know." Gibbs made sure to send a glare at the agents as he spoke. Patterson, again, looked fearful and guilty, though his guilt was for not doing his job. Sanders still seemed to be suppressing what Alec would call a "shit-eating grin" while he plastered on a guilty look.

"Why would she leave?" Tony asked with a kind of naivety that only came with denial. They all knew damn well why she might leave. Gibbs felt it coming on, the burning hurt of betrayal threatening to burn through his chest, trying to claw its way out. He forcefully shoved it back down; now was not the time to loose his cool. He had a case to work.

Choosing to ignore Tony's question, Gibbs responded with words that scorched his throat like shards of scalding shrapnel: "Get the team over here, but before you leave, put a BOLO out on her, DiNozzo. We're not looking for a missing agent; we're looking for a runaway criminal." With that said, he slammed his phone shut, also slamming a lid on the jar of emotions that threatened to bubble over.

Deciding to worry abut his _feelings_- he scoffed at the term- later, Gibbs thought it best to grill the two idiots who were supposedly "guarding" Alec before she'd disappeared. "What, exactly, were you two doing that you weren't watching Alec Broekhart as you'd been assigned to do?"

"Well, I was in the basement with her for a while after you had left," Patterson began, but he stopped as Gibbs raised a hand. "What was she doing?" he asked the young agent.

"Um, well, she was playing with the cat, and then Sanders brought her some pecan pie- wouldn't let me have any…" He muttered the last part before continuing with vigor, "She was walking around, eating the pie, and she was, um, looking…through some of the things…er…" Gibbs raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to continue. "The things…on your work bench…"

This admission threw Gibbs for a loop; he was certainly not expecting to hear _that_. So Alec had been the one looking through the papers on his desk. But why? There was nothing there that she'd never seen before; all of the papers there were from cases that she'd help work. And why would his tools be out of place? Alec knew where everything went; she would have to, after helping Gibbs on his boat for two months. The next part of Patterson's story particularly intrigued him.

"Um, she saw something there that seemed to, well, upset her. She started breathing very quickly, and I was about to ask her what was wrong when Sanders, uh, called me up here. After that, I guess we were just distracted, and that is no excuse for not doing my job. Agent Gibbs, I take full and complete responsibility for my actions and I apologize." That was why Gibbs liked Patterson; the kid could admit to his problems and was willing to accept the consequences of his actions, while Sanders would try to buck the blame on someone else if it would help him. But what had Broekhart seen that had scared her?

"Do you know what she was looking at?" he inquired.

"Some paper. I'm sorry; I didn't get a good look at it." Patterson seemed truly remorseful.

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault," Gibbs told him. Upon hearing the various cars arriving in front of his home, he added, "Go explain what happened to everyone else. Give an official report." When Patterson just stood looking at him, he repeated, with emphasis, "Go!"

Once Patterson had scampered from the room, Gibbs turned to Sanders, and asked him, "What the hell was so important that you called him up here originally?"

"Oh, well," he seemed to scramble for an answer. "I wanted to ask him about a case that we'd worked on together, and how the ruling against the convict had, erm, gone." It was the worst excuse Gibbs had ever heard. Okay, well maybe not the worst, but quite a bad one. He'd find out what had really happened later, but he had more pressing matters to attend to.

The door then slammed open to reveal a very distraught looking Abby. "What happened?!" Abby shouted, tears falling down her face, messing up her make up. The sight was enough to break anyone's heart. She was followed by a sad looking Tony, a confused McGee, and a very determined Ziva.

"Hey Boss, we came as soon as we could," Tony said, sounding out of breath. "We even had Ziva drive." Now that showed dedication to their cause. They must truly care to allow Ziva to drive just to get their more quickly.

"What's going on? How did she leave without anyone noticing?" Ziva asked, trying to keep her mind clear so she could think more logically.

Gibbs told them everything he knew of the situation. Abby immediately demanded that she be shown Gibbs work bench, which she thoroughly examined for fingerprints and DNA. She then asked Gibbs if anything had seemed "hinky" to him. He mentioned the changed trash bags, the hammer, Sanders' suspiciousness, and the pecan pie.

"I never did like that Sanders…" Tony muttered. "He always seemed a little off to me."

"Wait!" Abby exclaimed. "What was that about pecan pie?" Gibbs could not understand what was so damn important about the pie, but Abby was rarely wrong when it came to her intuition.

"Sanders gave her some pie, but he apparently wouldn't give any to Patterson." Gibbs could tell Abby was on to something, as she ran upstairs and straight to…his trash can. She flung the lid open and peered inside.

"It's empty!" She spun around to face Gibbs. "Was it empty this morning?" Gibbs shook his head negatively. "And the bag was changed," McGee wondered aloud.

"So something was thrown out that someone didn't want us to find," Ziva finished the thought for them.

"When is your trash picked up?" Tony asked.

"Mondays," Gibbs supplied. Considering it was a Wednesday, they knew it couldn't be gone from that. But a check in Gibbs garage could show that there were no bags in the trash cans. Wherever that bag was, it wasn't here.

"McGee, try to find that bag. Ziva, I want you to question Sanders- he's hiding something, and I want to know what. Tony, I want you to follow up with Patterson; ask him what Sanders called him upstairs for, I want to check the story." With that, the team ran off to their separate assignments.

"Gibbs," Abby began. The tears were still in her eyes, but she was more composed now. "Why would she leave? I mean, yeah, they're her _family_- though I bet they're nowhere near as great as we are- but she was _happy_ here. She was happy with us, and she didn't seem like she'd leave by herself without a really, _really_ good reason."

"And whatever that reason was, it was on that sheet of paper," Gibbs finished.

"Do you think her team would have taken her back?" Abby inquired sadly. "Like, forcefully taken her back? I know there are no signs of a struggle, but still, it's a feasible scenario." It was, and as much as Gibbs would've loved to dump the blame on Alec's "family", it would be too easy to do that. Nothing was ever that easy. "I don't know, Abbs,' he sighed. "I just don't know."

The doorbell rang. Gibbs couldn't believe that someone would be ringing his doorbell when there were so many government vehicles outside. Probably some nosy neighbor. He walked to the door and threw it open. "Can I help you?" he asked.

A teenage boy stood in front of him. He had raven black hair, bright blue eyes, and very defined features. If he wasn't in America, Gibbs would've sworn he was Irish.

"Um, hello," the boy greeted him, fidgeting uncomfortably. Huh, he sounded like he did have an Irish accent. Why would there be an Irish boy standing at Gibbs' doorway at a time like this? It seemed too…hinky. The boy continued, "I was just wondering, or rather, my mother was, what exactly is going on here? Oh, I'm sorry, that was a quite rude way of putting things…okay, what, well, happened? I know, it's none of our business, but my mother is, for lack of a better term, a gossip, and made me come over here and ask."

"And you are?" Gibbs asked him. He wasn't home much, but he'd notice if an Irish family moved into the neighborhood; it would be something noticeable.

"Oh, um, Ronan." He held out his hand for Gibbs to shake, and his eyes bugged as his face twisted in pain.

"What's wrong?" Abby asked, always the bleeding heart. Well, not always, but for a teen in pain, yes.

"Nothing," he mumbled, smiling over gritted teeth. He turned slightly and glared…at the telephone pole.

"Are you sure?" Gibbs asked, feeling amused at this odd boy.

"Yes, I'm fine," he responded a little too cheerily. Something was definitely up.

"How about you come inside and we'll tell you all about what happened?" Gibbs suggested. Ronan sent another pained glance at the telephone pole, and then followed Gibbs inside. Gibbs took him in to the living room and then proceeded to lock all exits, signaling to Abby to keep the boy secure.

Ronan's eyes widened as he said, "Whoa, man, I'm sorry if I offended you, I didn't mean anything, but, I'll just leave, you don't have to-"

"Take out the bug," Gibbs said.

"What?" The boy asked, confusion marring his features.

"The listening device in your right ear. Remove it." Ronan only stared until Gibbs held his hand out. After a few more moments, he slowly reached up and plucked a miniscule device from his ear and dropped it in Gibbs' hand. Abby was dumbfounded that Gibbs could've even guessed that the boy was carrying a bug.

Gibbs held out his hand again. "And the mic." Another device was pulled from his jacket collar. Gibbs put them in a plastic evidence bag that he then placed in a plastic container that he put in a cupboard. They wouldn't be able to pick up any sound waves there. He then turned to Ronan.

"If you're wondering how I knew," he said to the boy and Abby. "You winced right after you introduced yourself. My guess is that you're not the people guy; you're something behind the scenes, you don't usually do the public appearances, and you didn't think to use a fake name because you were nervous. So you used your real name, and whoever was on the other end of those devices yelled at you for doing it, and the feedback caused you to flinch. And some sort of camera is placed at that pole across the street, which is why you glared at it."

Ronan just stared, and then his face split into a grin and he flopped onto the couch. He chuckled, "You really are as good as they say." He shook his head. "You're correct on, well, all accounts. And they're going to kill me for being such a screw up, so I'll share with you some. Yes, I used my real name. I'm never the front man; I'm the research guy, the computer geek. Cal's the smooth talker, not me. Hell, I'm barely worth it on this team. And the one time they let me go in the field, and it was only because I was the least threatening, the least suspicious, but I didn't care. I was so excited, I though I'd finally do something to earn my place, and I messed it up. God, I have no idea why my boyfriend is even _with_ me, I'm such a loser!"

At the confused looks, he said, "Yeah, I'm gay. You can bet Ma and Dad loved that, huh? You guys ever wonder how all these orphan criminals pop up all over? Well, if you weren't thrown out of a car like Alec, you had to become an orphan a different way. Such as being kicked out of your house by your parents for being as straight as a roundabout. But I think they could tell I was a screw up then, I mean, look at me now! I'm a criminal, ranting at some government officials about how much my life sucks! Only _I_ would turn getting arrested into a damn therapy session! God, I am such a dumbass! No wonder they sent me! I mean, they probably knew that I'd fudge all this up, I mean, it was only a matter of time. This was bound to happen eventually, no one can stand me for long periods of time, and I make everyone around me leave me. Hell, even _I_ would leave me if I could! I'm a worthless excuse for a person! I should have just listened to my dad; I should have just killed myself like he told me to!" With tears in his eyes, he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with his sobs.

Abby immediately rushed over to the boy and sat down next to him, putting a comforting arm around his shoulders and repositioning him so his head was resting on her shoulder. She made quiet shushing noises and rubbed his back like a mother would for her child.

Except for, apparently, mothers like Ronan's. God, it just made Gibbs' blood boil thinking of how someone could just toss out their own child that way. What was it about people from Alec's criminal group- which Ronan was, no doubt, a member of, considering he even mentioned her in his outburst- that made Gibbs just want to, well, wrap them in a blanket and hide them away from the world, and then strangle their "parents" for mistreating them? It made one wonder what other stories these criminals could tell. And what of the others? Ronan had said they were _all_ orphans, making it sound as if they were probably all teenagers. For the first time since he'd met Alec and gotten tangled up with these criminals, he felt grudging respect for their leader. He was saving these kids from terrible situations, and even if they were working as thieves, he could tell from that video he'd been sent that they were taken care of quite well. Gibbs felt that, maybe, if they weren't members of opposing forces, he and this man could have been, well, friends. Not that Gibbs really admitted to having friends- most people thought he had none- but they could have gotten along, under different circumstances.

"Um, what did we miss?" Tony asked, chuckling uneasily. Gibbs turned to see him standing with Ziva and McGee flanking him, making them look slightly intimidating. He heard a whimper and turned to see Ronan's eyes widen and he seemed to curl into himself, looking as if he wanted to crawl into the couch. Abby put her arms around him once more and set a glare at Tony, who was confused and wondering what he'd done wrong.

Ziva cleared her throat and said, "Sanders said he knows nothing of any trash bag. He is most definitely hiding something, but I cannot get it out of him without having to resort to…_physical_ means." Gibbs nodded, happy that she'd held back. The last thing he needed was a law suit on his hands and an agent on trial. Tony spoke next.

"I checked with Patterson; he said that Sanders called him up and then started making small talk. He then asked if Patterson could cover for him while he ran out on an _errand_. Patterson said he was making coffee at the time and didn't see if Sanders was carrying anything with him, but he was back within six minutes and he didn't take his car. That's where it fits in to what Probie here found." He gestured for the other agent to speak.

"Boss, I checked and there are eight dumpsters in the surrounding area in a two-mile radius." McGee held up a computer print-out. "If Sanders was walking and back in six minutes, that narrows it down to two he could have reached without sprinting there and back, if he did in fact take the trash bag."

"Now, may I ask, who is this?" Tony inquired, looking pointedly at Ronan, who had stopped crying but still had fresh tear tracks on his cheeks. He scrubbed at his face, trying in vain to hide the evidence that he'd obviously been crying. His puffy, red eyes gave him away, anyway. Gibbs filled them in on this new…occurrence.

"Why hasn't he been arrested yet?" Ziva asked. Ronan's eyes widened considerably, and he shook his head vigorously and exclaimed, "Like hell!"

"What did you think would happen when you literally knocked on the door of a federal agent?" Tony questioned. Ronan snorted and said darkly, "Only _I_ wouldn't pick up on how stupid that plan was. My Lord, how the hell did I not see it earlier?! I can't believe they came up with something as obvious as sending me to knock on the door and I didn't realize they were getting rid of me! I am such an idiot!" He fisted his hands in his hair and looked distressed.

"Hey, everything's going to be all right," Abby murmured soothingly, continuing to rub his back.

"How?! I'm going to prison! I'm not going to last in prison! I'll be eaten alive!"

"Maybe we could get a deal," Gibbs said quietly.

"What? Like Alec's? I doubt it," Ronan scoffed. "I am in no way helpful to anyone. I'm useless."

"They wouldn't have chosen you for that team if you were useless," Abby told him calmingly, well at the same time Ziva said, "You could give us information on your team."

"Hell no!" Was the response. "I may be a loser, but I'm no nark!" That basically led to an uncomfortable silence that was only broken by Gibbs' cell phone. Because he was getting annoyed with all of his recent calls, Gibbs snatched up the phone and barked, "Yes?"

"You're testing my patience, Agent Gibbs," said a voice filled with cold fury. A Scottish voice belonging to Alec and Ronan's boss. It continued, "Not only is Alec now missing, but you've taken another of my operatives and I _want them back_." The last three words were emphasized with a voice of steel. Too bad Gibbs had nerves made of the same stuff.

"I'm assuming this means that you also have no idea where Alec is?" The rest of Gibbs team stared at him, guessing who it was by Gibbs' expression. Ronan had no idea what was happening.

"Of course I don't, but it sounds as if you don't, either. I'm going to propose a deal, Agent Gibbs." This surprised Gibbs; he most certainly wasn't expecting that. "And what would this deal entail?"

"Our two teams meeting. You would have to return Ronan to us, and we would share our information. Finding Alec is my main priority, aside from the return of Ronan, and I believe that this could be achieved with the use of our shared resources. Of course, you'd also have to refrain from arresting us and bypass your 'We don't make deals with criminals' programming."

"What would we get out of this deal? You'd get your operatives back, and NCIS would be left high and dry." Ronan seemed to be perking up; he was beginning to understand who was on the phone, but he kept stomping on the glimmer of hope that was building in his chest.

"I believe that a compromise could be made at a later time dealing with the…custody agreement of Alec and the use of my team as a resource."

"When would this meeting be?" Gibbs asked.

"Today. I happen to be in the area." Gibbs could hear the smirk in his voice. Damn it, they were close! "I'll allow you to choose the location, to make you feel more comfortable, though I suggest you don't bring anyone other than your team and of course Ronan, and you don't alert anyone else to our meeting. We will know if you do and we won't appear if you do so."

"Fine. The dumpster in the alley two blocks from my house," Gibbs said reading off of McGee's paper. "I'm assuming you can find it?"

"I most certainly can. Ten minutes Agent Gibbs." The line went dead. Gibbs turned to his team and a hopeful Ronan.

"Grab your gear. We have a meeting with the enemy in ten."

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**I can just imagine Landon hearing about Ronan knocking on Gibbs' door. It would go like this:**

**Landon: Wait- You were out of ideas, so you sent Ronan to literally knock on the enemy's door and **_**ask**_** if they had any information they wanted to share?!**

**Zannen: Not one of my better ideas. I swear, it sounded so much smarter at the time.**

**Hehe. I love Ronan; he doesn't cry a lot, he's just really insecure. Anyone with his parents would be. That's it for the chapter, so please, review!**


	15. Foreign Friends

**I know this was a long time coming and it's a tad on the short side, but I felt that I had to end it where I did; my inner muse screamed that I do so, and who am I to disobey? It's a violent little bugger. Anyways, thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through my crap, especially my new friend **_**Jane McBrennan**_** who put up with a lot of "I'll write it soon, I swear!" and the like from me. I can't believe this story is at 50 reviews – you guys are awesome! This is now a full blown crossover with Stephen Cole's ****Thieves Like Us**** trilogy. The next paragraph has been getting posted in a lot of my stories lately.**

**Something I've been wondering for a long time, and I mean this purely in a scientific way- think of it as a demographic- I was wondering, do any guys read my stories? I know that there are way more females on this site, and I've only come across about ten people who've ever blithely stated that they're a male. You don't have to tell me, though purely out of interest, I'd like to know. I promise I won't stalk you (much ;) )! I really only care because I want to see if I can aim the stories toward a wider group of people- I've been talking a lot with a friend of mine one here- see the aforementioned **_**Jane McBrennan**_**- about writing and I was thinking that if I wanted a chance at going professional one day-fat chance that it is- I'd want to widen my audience range. And now for some review replies!**

_**Kelly**_**: He (Ronan) was mentioned in other chapters. Thanks for the compliment!**

_**Your Favorite Lab Partner Ever**_**: Thanks very much!**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own NCIS or any of its characters; CBS does. I don't own the book ****Thieves Like Us**** or its two sequels, they belong to their author, Stephen Cole, as do the characters of Jonah Wish and Coldhardt's gang. I do own Alec, the gang and anyone/thing you don't know.**

* * *

When Alec came to, it was dark. Blinking a few times, she was able to see a little, but the only source of light appeared to be from under a door on the opposite side of the room. She couldn't really get across the room, though, because she'd been bound. Her ankles were held together tight enough to hurt, and her wrists were tied above her head to a pole, ensuring that she couldn't move or feel much in her hands, due to the decreased blood flow to them.

What she really wanted to know was how she'd gotten here. She remembered leaving Gibbs' place, Thimble in her bag, when she'd been called by the gang. She'd been ecstatic, and then she'd heard a noise behind her. Turning, she'd seen a figure. Said figure proceeded to tackle her to the ground, wrenching the phone from her grasp. They'd struggled and she'd received a sharp blow to the head, and she knew no more...until now, that is. Speaking of the blow to the head, it hurt something awful. It felt like she'd just played King of the Hill with a Mack truck.

Groaning, she lifted her head and did her best to take in her surroundings. To the left: dark. To the right: black. Forward: ooh, both dark AND black. She was going to further lament sarcastically about her surroundings when she heard a voice hiss, "Who's there?"

Immediately stiffening, her head snapped up, looking towards the source of the sound, somewhere ahead of her and to the left, where it was more predominantly black with a tinge of dark, if she remembered her earlier assessments correctly. Being her usual, snarky self, she ignored the fact that this other person may be armed, or at least less bound than she was herself, and replied, "Me."

The other voice, decidedly male and British and around her age, exhaled sharply, presumably in annoyance, and scoffed back at her, "And who might _you_ be?"

"Depends who's asking," she responded cheerily, using one of the oldest responses in the book. After a few moments of silence, she asked companionably, "So, what're you in for, English?"

"Am I sure I want to tell you?" the voice inquired in return. She smiled, though no one could see in the dark. "How would I know, I'm not you!" Even when tied up in the dark with a killer headache and no idea where she was or why, she still had her sarcasm intact. Landon would be rolling his eyes if he could see her now,

Again left without a response, Alec, not one to be perturbed, continued, "You know where we are? This place wouldn't have anything to do with NCIS and its, erm, prisoners, would it? 'Cause I don't think that they're allowed to tie people up like this, unless we're in Guantanamo Bay, that is. Are we in Gitmo?"

"What are you _talking_ about?" The other voice sounded like it though she was crazy. Oh well, just because she wasn't the sanest person around didn't mean she was totally gone. "We're somewhere in, on, or around the Philippines, on an island, presumably. I'm in here because I'm involved in some...unsavory activities, as some may think of them, though the people holding us here aren't involved in anything legal, either. They're thieves just like the rest of us. I don't even know what your 'NCIS' is, though I assume you're American, so it must be one of your government agencies."

Delighted and channeling her inner Roland, she said jovially, "You guys are thieves too? Awesome! Considering the circumstances, I think we're allies here, English. So, the name's Alec Broekhart. You know how I got here from Washington, D.C.?"

"I don't know about allies, um, Alec, I just know that that I need to find my friends. They're my, er, colleagues."

"English, you're part of a crime team too?! Wow, so much in common. It's like kismet, I swear."

"Yeah, not so much. Hey, how tied up are you? I'm strapped to a stretcher, so I can't really get out. Think you can help, mate?" He sounded hopeful. Too bad she couldn't help. "Nope, I'm tied up myself. Arms around a pole, legs tied together. I think we're kinda screwed here, English. You got any wise escape plans?"

"No, but I'm working on it. This isn't really my thing – I'm the computer guy, the 'geek' as some of my wonderful 'friends' like to call me."

"That sounds a lot like my friend Ronan. I've got the same situation. Breaking and entering, lifting things, but not much in the planning department, that's Zan's job." She sighed, lost at what to do. "Got any plans yet, English?"

"Yes, part of one, and if you'd just shut up for a minute I could finish it. And stop calling me English! My name is Jonah, Jonah Wish."

"Is that your stage name when you dance at the clubs?" she scoffed. "I mean, really, 'Wish' is your last name? Why don't you just change your first name to 'Star' and complete the hooker persona?"

"What kind of name is Broekhart?" Jonah shot back, annoyed by her comment and their predicament.

"One you get from abusive parents – apparently the world likes the irony of it. You know, the whole 'broken hearted-ness' of it?" She laughed without humor. "Sorry about going off on you like that, getting all moody. Just hate my luck. I mean, first I'm enough of an idiot to get caught on a job – by a simple pressure plate in the floor, too, can you believe it? Beginner level stuff and I get arrested because of it. And then I got taken up with the guys who caught me, NCIS, as a temporary agent, no less, and then my team comes to get me and _that_ gets screwed up and I get taken here, which is apparently the other side of the world from where I'm supposed to be, and - " she sighed in defeat. "It's just grating on me, you know? It's like nothing ever goes right with me around. Heh, with my luck, you may not want to bring me on your escape; I'll probably get us killed." Alec laughed self-deprecatingly.

"Are you always so bi-polar?" Jonah asked, one eyebrow raised, though nobody could see it.

"More so lately than usual," she replied. They sat, or in Jonah's case, laid, in silence for a few minutes, both lost in their own minds.

"Hey, do you know if they have any cameras on this room?" Alec asked softly.

"I don't think so. I don't know much about this place, but I don't think they'd bother with cameras in here; the room doesn't seem to be of much importance."

"Which means it's a prime place to store prisoners and see what makes them tick," she sighed.

"You know," Jonah began softly. "Before they shoved me in here, they said-" he paused to clear his throat before continuing, "They said that they were planning to sell all of us, in an auction, to the highest bidder."

Alec felt as if someone had just poured ice water down her back. She could almost feel the phantom sensation of it sinking through her skin and into her veins, freezing there in a manner that left her shaking and drawing in breaths painfully. "Th-they want to – to sell us? Like, like slaves? Human trafficking..." She didn't want to think about the implications of the term 'slavery'. The entire train of thought scared her and made her want to wretch at the same time.

Jonah dredged on, "They planned to pair us up – the members of my team, at least, I don't know about you or if there are any others involved in this. Anyway, they want to sell us as pairs; that way we keep complacent because there's a familiar face around, and the good of one hinges on the compliance of the other. If one of us acts out, the other pays for it. Thus, you behave if you want your friend to survive. Don't know what they plan to do with you, though, if you don't know anyone here. You seem to have enough of a conscience to care if someone's harmed because of you, even a stranger, but they wouldn't rely on that if they don't know much about you."

She just nodded numbly in response to show she was listening. Realizing again that they were in pitch darkness which couldn't be alleviated by the cracks of light streaming through the seams of the doorframe, she made a small noise of confirmation that yes, she'd heard what he had to say.

"Hey, you okay?" The almost concerned sounding voice floated through the impenetrable darkness. Shuddering out a sigh, she frowned and carelessly murmured a monosyllabic response that she was fine.

"You don't sound like it," Jonah said knowingly. Sighing yet again, the dark-haired girl responded, "Yeah, I know. Think I just need a minute, really. Everything's just been dropped on me like a ton of bricks, not to mention that my major headache from whatever knocked me out before isn't getting any better and none of this is helping it."

Truthfully, despite her bravado, all she wanted to do right now was close her eyes, curl into a ball and go to sleep, so that she could wake up from this nightmare and be back in Gibbs' basement, or even back in her room at Landon's manor, as long as it was somewhere away from here. Alas, she and English – _Jonah_ – were pretty much stuck where they were, and dreaming of being gone wasn't going to do anything to help. All they could do, all _she_ could do, was look to the future and try to find a way out of here.

She decided that if she was to escape, she needed to know everything she could about their situation. "Okay English, er, Jonah, tell me everything you know about this. I need to know who these people are, why we're here, what they're doing, and everything you know about this building, its security and our current location."

Jonah filled her in. "My team has been tracking a, um, _valuable item_ and while following it, we came into conflict with another group who was after the same thing. They got to it first, and we've been following them ever since. We followed them here, to the Philippines, where they...well, they may have killed our youngest member. Hell, we don't even know if he's alive, and if he is, I have no idea what condition he'd be in."

Sighing resignedly, he continued, "Anyway, the bastards did a number on all of us and took us here. We all got split up, from what I can tell, and they dumped us here to _think over_ their idea of pairing us up to be sold. I don't know anything about the building or security, other than the place is big and the guys who own it have money coming out their arses. But then again, don't we all?" He chuckled darkly.

"I've no idea where my boss is or if he knows what's happened, but he has a past with the leader of the team we've been tailing and with the people holding us here, and the ones holding us here are the same people who employed the other team. That's about all I know that matters to the situation; what about you, America? What's your deal?" Alec could have laughed; he gave her a nickname! While it may have only been because he was trying to get back at her for calling him English, Alec thought it was sweet. She could feel a friendship coming on!

Alec gave him an abridged version of her tale of woe, as she could tell he wasn't giving all the details of his story either. It was in Crime 101 – never tell more info than necessary, even with a close business associate. You don't want to spill more, or it could come back to bite you big time. In the underworld, it could get you killed. Only give the pertinent information, for your safety and that of your colleagues.

Thinking like a training manual reminded her of the "Probie Book". She began to laugh completely out of turn, causing Jonah to stare at her as if she was a mad woman. Not that she could see it, but she could feel that she was being watched and assumed he would be staring, anyway. She'd stare at herself, too, if she broke out into insane fits of laughter in a bleak situation with no optimistic points about it.

Sighing loudly to end her laughing fit, she chuckled to Jonah, "Sorry, I just realized that I was thinking like a manual for beginner criminals, and it reminded me of this really stupid training manual I once read, and it made me laugh."

"What was it about?" Jonah asked, trying to strike up a conversation again to stave off his growing boredom and anxiety. "The manual, I mean."

"It was on how to be a proper NCIS agent; everyone calls it the 'Probie Book', though, because that's who you give it to – Probies. A Probie is a Probationary Agent," she explained. "Anyway, the book was written a long time ago, so far back that we're not sure when it was first published, and it's so outdated that it only serves as a means to make people laugh their asses off. Not that we let the higher-ups know that, of course. Then we'd get an updated version, and Lord knows how much worse that one would be. Besides, last I heard the Internal Affairs office was working on new training videos; that'll be a laugh. The always hire the worst actors to play out scenes and situations that you'll most likely never encounter, all the while staring at the camera that they're supposed to pretend isn't there."

"Remind me not to join a government agency," Jonah scoffed sardonically. Alec only chuckled amiably in reply.

"Any ideas now, English?" she queried. Jonah responded, "Actually, I think I have one."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? And how do you suppose we should get out of these restraints?"

"Well, I have this lighter with me-"

"Say what now?!" Alec exclaimed. "You have a _lighter_, an honest-to-goodness handheld lighter _and you didn't tell me?!_"

"Chances are I'm going to burn myself at least a little using it, if this even works, that is, and on another note, what good would the lighter have done you?" Jonah shot back, upset at being shouted at.

It was a good thing that Jonah couldn't see the sly, fond smile that crept across her face, or he would've guessed right away that maybe giving her a lighter wasn't such a good idea.

"One of those many things that I could be arrested for? Yeah, one of them is arson. Multiple counts of arson. I'm just a _tad_ bit of a pyro, just a little bit, but not enough to worry about."

What she failed to mention was that being "just a little bit" of a pyro was enough to do a considerable amount of damage in a small amount of time with a pocket lighter that could be bought in any gas station check out line. Landon only gave her lighters and explosives, or even flammable materials, when in a safe, controlled environment for a reason. She decided not to mention this fact. After all, you only told someone the "pertinent information"; Jonah didn't _really_ need to know.

* * *

Gibbs shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, the only indication that the brisk wind was affecting him. Even if it wasn't a snowstorm, it was still damn cold outside! Of course, Gibbs couldn't acknowledge this like a normal person, or he wouldn't be, well, Gibbs.

He leaned against the brick wall at the back of the alley, looked up at the sliver of sky peaking between the two buildings, and sighed, his breath leaving a cloud of mist in the air that a breeze soon swept away. Gibbs had chosen the alley because it would keep the wind to a minimum, but he knew that it wasn't foolproof, and that it probably wasn't the best meeting place, strategy wise, as anyone could come in, and standing at the very back of the alley made them sitting ducks for an attack.

It didn't help that Ronan was standing next to him, hands cuffed behind his back and amusing himself by rocking back and forth, from his heels to his toes, heels to toes, heels to toes. It was driving him crazy watching him move back and forth like that. Tony was watching his movement too, only more suspiciously than Gibbs was. Gibbs didn't see Ronan as a threat at the current time, though he could become one at any moment, the agent would admit.

Ziva stood guard at the alley entrance, waiting for the impending approach of the criminals. Abby was on Ronan's other side, ready to comfort him at any given moment, no matter, the causes. Tim was standing in the middle of the alleyway, clearly confused on what he was to do for the time being. Gibbs thought that his standing there was a good thing to do at the moment. Dare he say it, there wasn't really much to do right now.

THUD!

A black blur fell from the side, apparently having come from one of the rooftops adorning the strip of sky Gibbs had been lamenting about earlier.

THUD! THUD!

Two more appeared from down the alleyway, all in black, all landing in crouches. Every agent in the alley turned and pulled their weapons, including Ziva. In the exact moment when Ziva wasn't looking, another figure appeared in the entranceway, flanked by three others. Seeing them, Gibbs cursed softly under his breath. The three jumpers were just a distraction so nobody would see which direction they'd approached from. Grudgingly, he had to admit, these guys knew what they were doing.

The three jumpers moved to stand with the rest of the gang, and for the first time Gibbs got a good look at everyone. The first of the three members who'd jumped off of the buildings was a tall, broad-shouldered boy with reddish brown hair who was sporting a grin at nothing in particular. The second was of a physique that Tony would refer to as "built", with sandy blond hair that was cut slightly long for Gibbs' liking. What was it with boys having such long hair nowadays? In Gibbs mind, if it went over your ears, if was long.

The third jumper was eerily familiar. On the short side, he was of fair complexion with dark brown hair. And he was wearing a hat that had Gibbs cursing once again as the boy adjusted it so the agents could see it better with a smug gleam in his eyes.

It was the delivery boy who'd brought them the video that had started this all. Gibbs could hear the gasps from his team, and he mentally cursed once again.

Looking towards the rest of the gang, Gibbs could see another boy with hair that was too long for his tastes, only his hair was brown and he was of medium height with an incredibly anxious expression. Upon seeing Ronan, his eyes lit up – that was the only way Gibbs could think to describe the joy in his features. It was probably the boyfriend; at least Ronan had been proved wrong on one count: his boyfriend obviously cared for him.

Next to him was an older boy of the same height, this one with dirty blond hair in a buzz cut. On the other side of their leader was a tall, muscular boy with dark hair and a stern, stiff scowl aimed in the agents' direction.

In the middle of the group was the leader, the Scotsman who'd been driving Gibbs up the wall and back down for the past few months. Even before hearing of him, Gibbs had been plagued by thoughts of this man – when he'd strike, _if_ he'd strike, where he was, _who_ he was, what he was planning, what would make Alec like him more (along with other insecure thoughts that Gibbs quashed swiftly like the good, tough agent that he was), etc. The list went on and on. And now here he was, in his sights. Gibbs was depressed to find that this man was an impressive figure.

He was tall, but not as much as some of the boys; he about matched the height of the dark haired boy who stood solemnly on his right, glaring at Gibbs in particular. The man had light brown hair, cut cleanly, unlike the boys'. He was in a crisp, clean suit that was obviously expensive and tailored. His gaze was a bright blue that was staring frigidly at Gibbs, revealing no emotion. There seemed to be a powerful aura around him that screamed for respect.

Gibbs stepped forward, and the man did as well. The two continued to size each other up, until the man spoke.

"Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. It's nice to finally meet you. I believe you've been expecting us. My name is Maxwell Landon."

* * *

**I know, I know, I promised the full meeting, but Alec and Jonah's meeting begged to be written longer, and it took up most of the chapter. So who here knows Jonah's significance, or can at least guess if you don't know for sure? Anyone know who he is? It's not hard at all to guess just from this story. Please review!**


	16. Interrogation Funtime

**I have no excuse for how late this is. I refuse to give up on a story, but my heart's really not in it anymore. I reread this story, and it's a piece of crap that I'm too lazy to fix. Seriously, in an earlier chapter I got Gibbs' first wife's name wrong. That's just terrible. Plus Alec is an almost unredeemable Mary-Sue. It's sickening.**

**I've been gone because my Transformers obsession has taken over my life. I really want to start a Watchmen/X-Men crossover I have in mind, but I promised myself that I wouldn't start it until I finished this story and another. The other is done, and now I'm on this. You'll probably notice that it's all short and rushed. That's because it is. I don't really know what to do with this story, but I kind of want to just slap in an ending and be done with it. I know what I need to do, but it will take longer than I'd like, so it's all really rushed. I'll try to make this weirdo finish good, but I can't promise it. Really, this story is crap and I can't be bothered to salvage it, but I'll try to finish it. Sorry for how crappy it all is.**

_**Kelly**_**: You read the book, you weirdo! Can't believe you didn't catch on to who he is. Still, thanks!**

_**Cat**_**: Thanks for all of the prods to continue. I do notice them and I do appreciate them; it's just that, as I said, this story has me between a rock and a hard place. Still, thank you!**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own NCIS or any of its characters; CBS does. I don't own the book ****Thieves Like Us**** or its two sequels, they belong to their author, Stephen Cole, as do Jonah, his boss, and his friends. I do own Alec, the gang and anyone/thing you don't know.**

* * *

Jonah looked from the singed, smoking hole that had just been blown in the wall, then to Alec and back again, all the while sporting a look of awe mixed with confusion and just a little bit of fear. He wasn't sure what the girl had been doing with that lighter in the dark until she lit it up, but it had certainly done _something_, considering the gaping whole in the wall and Alec's now-unbound status.

With a distinct spring in her step, Alec practically skipped towards Jonah, still tied on the stretcher, and quickly untied him. Now that light from the hallway illuminated the room, Jonah could see that she was a girl of somewhere around sixteen with a pale, scarred complexion, green eyes, and black hair that desperately needed to be washed.

Then again, his own blond hair probably looked the same right about now. Kidnappers and prison keepers didn't really worry about their prisoners' hair status. Still, he could just _imagine_ the way Con's nose would wrinkle and the sarcastic comments Motti would make.

Damn, he missed those bastards.

Alec pulled off the last of Jonah's restraints. He flexed his wrists and rubbed at the chafing the restraints had caused. Jonah could hear his joints pop as he stretched his legs, groaning at the motion.

A tapping noise to his side drew him from his cat-like motions. Alec was tapping her foot repeatedly, arms crossed, obviously antsy about something.

"What is it, America?" Jonah asked grumpily. She frowned at him, causing a small white scar above her lips to twist in an odd manner.

"Uh, if you forgot, English, we're currently imprisoned, and we just blew up a wall and are in the process of escaping. Now's really not the time to be doing our calisthenics."

Jonah shot her a look. She shrugged in reply.

"Hey, don't blame me when the people come running with guns. Which will probably happen very soon, if we don't move it."

Down the hall they could hear the sound of boots clomping against the floor.

"Speak of the devil," she muttered. "C'mon English, let's get to it." Alec grabbed Jonah's wrist, chose a random corridor, and made a run for it.

* * *

"I gathered," said Gibbs stoically. Landon slanted him a look.

"I highly doubt you knew my name already, Special Agent Gibbs."

"True, but I could already guess that you were the man I've been wishing was incarcerated for the last few months."

For some reason this made Landon smile. He liked it when people were aggravated by him. It was a perk of the job, annoying the shit out of people.

"I like to leave an impact," he said, grinning. Gibbs wanted to punch that smug smirk right off the man's face.

Abruptly changing the topic, Landon asked, "What do you know about Alec's disappearance?"

Gibbs was a little surprised at the topic change, but took it with aplomb. He relayed to the other man what had occurred between Alec and himself and what they knew about the circumstances of her disappearance, suspicious NCIS guards and all, while keeping some more private things under wraps. It wasn't a good idea to spill all of your information to the enemy in one go.

Landon nodded and gave his own abridged version of the tale, leaving out strategic things that could be incriminating, other than what Gibbs already knew, like the cameras and listening devices.

The group as a whole found that they really didn't have too much information on Alec's disappearance. Still, a deal was a deal, and Ronan was to be returned to his team.

"Ronan, if you would." Landon gestured to the young boy who made a run for his friends, crashing into the arms of the anxious looking dark-haired boy who must have been his boyfriend. Landon noticed the NCIS team's look and said, "Brendan here has been frantic for his return."

Gibbs nodded. Landon continued, "I'm hoping you have some sort of plan of action?"

"Of course," Gibbs said flawlessly, inwardly proud to have a lead, unlike the criminals. Score for the good guys, as Abby would say.

Gibbs had McGee explain about the trash cans. He did so, stuttering abnormally the whole time due to nervousness.

The dark haired boy next to Landon spoke then, eyes narrowed the whole time. "Have you checked for your..._trash bag_?" The boy said it so derisively that Gibbs was almost taken aback by the venom in his tone. _Almost._ However, it was Gibbs, and nothing took him aback.

Landon looked at the boy chidingly. "Zannen, be polite. We spoke about this already."

The boy – Zannen – was not happy about this, but grudgingly agreed with a less-than-pleased grunt. "Fine. So have you checked for the damn bag yet, or are we just going to think about it all day and hope that maybe, just maybe, if we use our imaginations, we can _imagine_ it into existence!"

"Zannen!" scolded his leader in a cold voice. The boy's posture stiffened before relaxing in what Gibbs recognized as a barely perceivable submissive stance – shoulders slumped, eyes averted, head down so his hair fell in his eyes. He obviously respected Landon, even if he apparently had no respect for anyone else.

"Sorry," he muttered, though Gibbs couldn't be sure who the apology was aimed at.

Tony cleared his throat. Frankly, Gibbs was just surprised that he hadn't cut into the conversation yet. "Boss, you want me to, uh, go dumpster diving?"

Gibbs leveled a look at his senior agent. "I didn't say you had to get in the dumpster, DiNozzo, but if you really want to, go ahead."

Tony blushed and grinned, and then turned Tim. "C'mon McProbie, we've got us a dumpster to investigate."

The tall kid with the reddish-hair raised his hand like a child at school. "Can I come?"

"Put your damn hand down, you idiot!" scolded the muscular blond with an almost debilitating case of bed-head. Gibbs wasn't sure a professional stylist could even replicate the angles that his hair was stuck at.

"Zachy, you know how fun trash picking is! That's why you come with me on trash pick-up day to scout for any good pickin's."

Zach almost blushed at that. _Almost_. It was a good thing the designated driver and pilot had a superior control over the constriction of his blood vessels and blood flow.

Tony found this to be oddly entertaining – then again, he found a lot of things to be entertaining.

"You can come," he said, a slightly bemused but mostly amused look on his face. The kid actually fist-pumped and trotted over to them.

"I'm Roland, by the way." He stuck his hand out for the two to shake. They did so, slightly confused by this weird kid.

The three moved off to the dumpster, which Roland wasted no time jumping in to. Gibbs watched as Landon did one of those gestures Tony would call a "face-palm."

The criminal muttered, "One day, just one day I ask them to be professional. One's being a brat, two are having an overly emotional reunion that they _don't think I notice -_" The two in question, being Ronan and Brendan, flew apart from where they had been, ahem, _greeting_ each other. "- and another one's literally diving in a dumpster."

He looked at the one who had played the delivery boy at NCIS. "Do you plan on doing something embarrassing, too? Just get it all out of your system now."

The boy looked offended. "Why would you look at me?"

"'Cause you're a dumbass," said Zach.

"You're just cranky," muttered the one in the hat.

"Coaden, Zach." Landon slanted the two a look; they promptly shut up. Gibbs had to hand it to the guy; he put up with a lot and didn't ever loose his cool. To the silver-haired fox, that was commendable.

"Hey Boss!" shouted DiNozzo. "We found it!"

Gibbs raised a brow, mildly surprised that they had found the bag so easily. "Well bring it here!"

The agents-plus-criminal did so, unceremoniously dumping it on the ground. Tony untied the bag and started leafing through the trash while Roland picked trash off of his black outfit, tossing aside a rotten piece of lettuce.

Tony rifled through the bag, pulling out some of the pecan pie they had heard so much about. He placed it in an evidence bag and handed it to Abby, who scurried off to her car so she could analyze it properly at NCIS. "Keep me posted," she said before she left, eyeing Tony suspiciously.

"Will do, Abbs," Gibbs said in an assuring tone. She stared at him for a moment, assessing his answer to see if the truth was being told, before waving her finger in the air threateningly.

"You better, mister!" With that, she was off.

"Found that paper you were talking about, Bren," Roland said, pulling out a crumpled, pie covered paper. He was tempted to lick the pie off of it, despite knowing where it had been and that it could have been drugged, but this idea was thwarted when Gibbs grabbed it, cleaned it off with a partially-used napkin from the trash bag, and read it. His eyes narrowed drastically as he did.

"What the hell is this?" he growled softly, dangerously.

"Let me see." Tony snatched it, read it, read it again, and with raised eyebrows passed it off to Ziva, who did the same before passing it off to McGee.

"Well?" asked the only criminal who hadn't yet been named, a blond with a Cockney accent.

Gibbs scowled as he stoically said, "It's a form necessary to remove Broekhart from my team."

Landon's posture stiffened. He said very slowly, very carefully, "And did you yourself obtain these files before now with those intentions?"

The NCIS leader glared back at him. "Of course not. I'm assuming that she thought I did and that was what lead to her leaving."

"But how did the papers get in your basement to begin with?" asked Ziva.

"Who wants to investigate the Sanders guy about it?" asked Code. Everyone stared at him. "What? Do I have something on my face? I am allowed to have ideas every once in a while, you know."

"It's just...surprising, that's all." Landon did his best to sound like he wasn't surprised, and failed miserably.

"So can we interrogate him or not?" asked Coaden, rather fed up with everyone's disbelief that he could have a non-idiotic thought when he put his mind to it.

"That might be a good idea," Gibbs conceded. "But he's NCIS. We're doing this my way."

That was how Agent Sanders came to be interrogated in Gibbs' kitchen. They wanted the interrogation off the record due to all of the illegal people involved. Still, Gibbs taped it just in case (with Sanders' permission, of course) and refused to let the criminals in the room, lest they be recognized or remembered later by the could-be bad guy. Though they were all bad guys in Gibbs' mind.

Sanders was a total wreck. He hadn't expected them to catch on! The pie, the paper – it had all been going so well! What had gone wrong?

After Gibbs continued to stare at him for a good half hour, he gave up.

"I took a bribe, okay?" he snarled. "Are you happy? I admit it, I took a bribe. Some guy came up to me one day after work, said he wanted to get his hands on the ex-criminal. He offered me a couple grand. All I had to do was make sure I was her guard when you put her under house arrest. He said you would, because he knew that's how you would react when her 'team' came looking for her. He said I just had to give her some pie laced with a delayed reaction drug that would knock her out, and to find some way to make her leave the house. I just had to distract that new guy you had me guarding with and let her escape. It was almost too simple!"

Ziva glared at him. "You," she said. "Are a deplorable man."

He glared right back. "I needed the cash, bitch. Lay off."

Gibbs hadn't liked Sanders on a good day, but now he outright hated him. "You're a disgrace to the name NCIS, 'Agent' Sanders. I'll be glad to turn you in."

His cell phone rang; Abby had found the drug.

"Gibbs!" she said excitedly. "I found out what was laced in the pie! It was-"

"Already know, Abbs."

She huffed loudly. "You need to stop doing that to me. So, did he confess?"

"Sung like a bird. Send some agents to my place, tell them to pick up Sanders and bring him in for treason and accepting a bribe. He'll be tied to a chair."

"Where are you going?"

"We have some things to check out."

After the call, Sanders asked nervously, "What things?"

Gibbs leveled him a look. "You," he said. "Are going to tell me exactly who employed you and where they were planning to take Alec."

"Or?" asked the traitorous man with a raised eyebrow.

Tony laughed almost darkly. "Trust me, you don't want to know what the other option is."

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**Well, this is my crappy comeback. Sorry it's so bad, but I'm way off on my groove, so to speak. Thanks for putting up with me!**

**Please review!**


	17. Family Phone Calls

**I'm trying to spit out a bunch of short chapters close together to finish this up. So here's another! I'll gloss over all things related to **_**Thieves**_** so you don't get too confused; you'll learn with the characters. If you do know _Thieves_, though, then you'll recognize that this is during _The Bloodline Cipher,_ after the gang gets caught and Patch gets blown up, and obviously Alec escapes with Jonah. Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own NCIS or any of its characters; CBS does. I don't own the book **_**Thieves Like Us**_** or its two sequels, they belong to their author, Stephen Cole, as do Jonah, his boss, and his friends. I do own Alec, the gang and anyone/thing you don't know.**

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"The Philippines?" Gibbs' inflection easily relayed his blatant disbelief. "Why in the hell would they take her to the _Philippines_?"

"I don't know, I just know what the computer reports say."

The address that the agents had received from Sanders was that of a posh hotel, a room of which had recently been rented by Sanders' contact. The contact had recently upped and left, leaving behind a lot of his belongings, including a cheap laptop, probably not one that held his most pertinent information – and it _was_ a he, if the clothes left behind meant anything.

According to the hotel staff, the man had been staying there for a few weeks. He had been the picture of polite, being courteous to everyone and apparently a high tipper. It was this that lead Gibbs to believe that the hotel's staff might choose to keep information from him. However, there was nothing that he could do about this, so he had to make himself content with what McGee could find on the computer, which turned out to be a lot.

The computer contained a memory on its hard drive of past emails, all from generic, free accounts, but speaking of a girl, obviously Alec, an auction, and discussing the arrangements for the man to take her back to the Philippines before the "big day." What this was, Gibbs had no idea, but he intended to find out.

The last correspondence with the other involved, apparently the boss of Sanders' contact, was the man saying that his cover had been blown by the idiot agent and that he would return to the base. There was not other correspondence after that.

McGee tried to access the account the man had used to wire money to Sanders' account as his paycheck, but the account was just a nameless serial number in the Caribbean, nothing that NCIS could track, especially when trying to keep things on the down low from Vance.

Landon kept putting his hand to his chin and "Hurm"-ing like he had some thought he was pondering over deeply. Zannen followed him around like a lost puppy-dog, looking for guidance from his master. His boss kept waving him away, telling him that they didn't need to be attached at the hip all the time.

"The Philippines...hurm..."

Tony kept laughing at how Landon's accent made his "hmm"s come out as "hurm"s.

"I had an old colleague mention recently that he was heading to the Philippines on some business. I could call him up, see if he's heard anything."

Gibbs could tell that he was referring to a fellow criminal involved in something illegal in the Philippines. It drove his sense of justice crazy to just allow the man to continue his illegal ventures, to just nod in agreement to the idea and not even _say_ something about it, let alone _do_ something about it. It was just so wrong to allow all of these insanely illegal things to happen all around him and not do anything. He felt like a sitting duck as Landon nodded and left the room, dialing on his phone the whole time.

* * *

Max Landon prodded at his phone, trying to remember the name listed in his contacts that he was using for his old boss. After all, he highly doubted that Coldhardt would appreciate his real name listed in another criminal's phone. Then again, Nathaniel Coldhardt's real name wasn't Nathaniel Coldhardt, anyway. But that was what everyone knew him as, so he could still be tracked by that name.

He waited with as much patience as he could muster for the call to dial. Oh, how he hated listening to it ring, ring, ring. Frankly, Max hated phones just as he hated most electronic forms of communication. Why couldn't people just write letters anymore? It was like cursive and proper letter writing were becoming extinct. He liked emails well enough, because they could be like a letter, but he couldn't stand all of that texting crap, and he wasn't a big fan of telephones, though he wouldn't be caught dead without one. The man was just full of contradictions like that.

When the incessant, annoying shrill ring of the phone was bothering him so much that he contemplated hanging up, the call was answered. Max wasn't at all put out with the silence on the other end. If someone was calling Coldhardt on his private line, he expected them to speak first, the paranoid old man. This thought made him grin fondly, remembering his cold, calculating, aloof mentor.

The man was an ass, no doubt about it, but he was an ingenious ass, even if he often left his own agents out of the loop until they were knee deep in a situation they hadn't expected, as in Coldhardt's mind, as long as he had already predicted the situation, which he almost always had, there was no problem with allowing his own operatives to be oh, say, kidnapped, taken prisoner, arrested, et cetera. He always got them out, eventually, though he most likely expected them to get themselves out of messes. It was annoying to Coldhardt if he had to come "save the day"; he expected better from his operatives. Max had learned this many times over years ago, when he worked on a team for Coldhardt with other criminals.

"Hello sir, it's Max." He knew well enough that Coldhardt didn't mind being called by his last name, but the respect for him had been so thoroughly embedded in his brain that Max knew he could almost annoy his mentor with how he insisted on calling him "sir" all the time. Max had tried to resist laughing his ass off when he heard Gibbs tell a member of the hotel staff to stop calling him "sir," because it was just so much like how Coldhardt had been with him.

"Maxwell; I wasn't expecting a call from you. Is something amiss?" Max could sense a hint of annoyance in his mentor's polite but stoic tone, and winced at it. He had probably been doing something and Max had interrupted him. This was why he so hated having to ask Coldhardt for help; he hated disturbing his old boss and getting that reproving look or tone, having to admit that once again he was in a mess he couldn't get out of on his own.

"Remember how you mentioned having some work in the Philippines? Would there be anything there that would necessitate kidnapping one of my agents?"

Coldhardt was silent for a moment; he probably knew of something and was contemplating if he should bother telling Max about it. Secretive old bastard.

"One of your agents is missing?"

Oh, this was a tough one to chew. He hated this, having to admit to his old boss that he couldn't even keep track of his own agents. "Yeah, we ran into some legal trouble, so to speak. We were trying to get her back when someone else grabbed her and ran off with her to the Philippines, apparently."

"Legal troubles?" Max winced again.

"Uh, yeah, she was arrested by this NCIS group when she broke into what turned out to be the home of a dead petty officer, and they ended up somewhat employing her."

There was a long, long pause. It was one of the worst moments in Maxwell Landon's life. He could just imagine Coldhardt thinking how he couldn't believe he had ever hired Max, let alone helped him to organize his own team when he obviously couldn't handle it.

"She was employed by an American government agency?"

"Um, yeah."

"Maxwell, stop using such improper language." Max flinched; if they hadn't been on the phone, Coldhardt just would have glared at him for using what he thought of as "street language." But because they weren't face to face, the tall, imposing Irish man with snow white hair and calculating crystal blue eyes had to settle for verbally chastising his old employee of sorts.

"Sorry, sir. I must be hanging out, I mean associating with my team a little too much." Why did he always feel like he had something to prove when he was talking to Coldhardt? Oh yeah, probably because the man was a living legend in the crime world and Max was pretty mediocre once you actually met him. He could never aspire to be anywhere near Coldhardt's level of infamy! The man's name simply inspired awe in any underground community, and he garnered the utmost respect from anyone who heard of him, even his enemies.

"Yes, I've told you that you spend much too much time with them. It's not in your best interest to become too attached to them, Maxwell. They will leave eventually, and you don't want to be too emotionally invested in them. They are employees, a means to and end. They are not your family."

It stung, every word that his cherished mentor said, like barbs piercing his skin, his lungs, his brain, his heart. He knew why everyone left, why they couldn't stand it. They were all orphans, all of the teams Coldhardt had lead and his own. Essentially, they were all looking for a place to belong, a family. While the lucky ones could find that with each other, they could never quite get that father figure they craved from Coldhardt because the man refused to think of his operatives as anything but just that, operatives, employees. Eventually it became too hard, too painful to keep trying to appease a man who would never give them that fond smile, that clap on the back that they all craved, that one "good work" that they wanted. That essence of a father that none of them had ever had. Coldhardt refused to be that person, and his teams grew older and realized this, and they left, and after a while he would form a new team of fresh operatives, and the cycle began again.

Max was different. He had never gotten over the lack of attention. He had never given up on the idea that one day, if he tried hard enough, Coldhardt would acknowledge him. It was pathetic; he was a grown man! Yet still, he kept in contact with the man, tried to show him that he could handle himself as well as a team, that he could be successful. It was pitiful and it was futile and it was clichéd, but he just wanted his mentor's approval.

He tried to be different with his team. After knowing what it was like to be ignored by his own boss, he tried his best to be a part of his team's lives. He got involved, speaking with them daily, being a part of their games and activities and movie nights. Max even made a point to have everybody eat dinner together at least once a week, just to try to be that father to them that they had never had, that he had never had.

Again it was pathetic, but he was trying to form himself a family through his team. He knew it, Coldhardt knew it, and possibly his team knew it, but nobody said a word, because it had worked. His team was his family, and he couldn't be impartial and unattached when it came to them if he tried.

That was why getting Alec back was so important. She was family, and Max had worked long and hard to make this family; he wasn't going to give up any of it, not now.

Yet when he spoke again, he said obediently, "Yes sir. I understand that. Still, she is quite an investment, one I'd rather not have go to waste. Would you perchance know anything of her disappearance or whereabouts?" He hated having to speak Coldhardt's language like that. Alec wasn't just an investment to him, but to Coldhardt an operative could never be anything but, and he wasn't even going to try to explain it to him.

"You said she was involved with a government agency. What is their current involvement in her disappearance?" Max was well used to the sudden changes in conversation when it came to Coldhardt. The man silently demanded to lead the conversation, and he would change topic when he wasn't sure if he wanted to speak of something. If he just didn't want to talk about a subject, his tone of voice would be all the hint one needed to tell.

"They are...assisting me. We have a deal."

There was silence, utter silence that made Max sick to his stomach. For a moment he feared that Coldhardt had hung up on him, had given up on him, had truly abandoned him for good. He had to resist letting out a huge sigh of relief when he heard the soft sound of an exasperated exhale.

"Somehow you continue to surprise me, Maxwell." Max did breathe that sigh of relief, but away from the phone where his mentor couldn't hear him. "Your operative is indeed involved in the same venture as I am." He took this to mean that whatever Coldhardt was doing, Alec's kidnapping was tied to it, but had not been done under his order.

"Can you help, then?"

"I believe so; it just so happens that I know who must have taken her, and I already planned to _contact_ them of late. I shall retrieve your agent while I do so."

Max couldn't hold back his surprise. "That's it? We just have to sit here like, like sitting ducks while you do all the work?"

He could hear the derisive tone to Coldhardt's voice. "Yes, Maxwell, that is it. It is quite the situation I'm dealing with at the moment, and I'd rather you didn't become involved in it."

Of course not. Because he was Landon, the useless one, and his job was to stay out of the way so everyone else could do the work. Briefly, it occurred to the criminal leader that he had the same level of self esteem as Ronan. Wasn't that all the more pathetic?

It was almost as if Coldhardt knew the dark path his mind had wandered down. The man always seemed to know everything, though. He might as well have been omniscient.

"It is a very dangerous, delicate situation that I'm currently entrenched in, Maxwell. I don't want you or any of your team not already involved to be harmed by this. My own Talent is currently in a bit of...trouble due to this situation, and it would be best if nobody else became concerned with it. I will find your agent, as well as my own, and have her returned to you."

"Okay." Max knew that the matter was now non-negotiable; that steely tone was all too familiar.

"I will speak with you at a later time, Maxwell. Goodbye." Max prepared to hang up, but there was one more line that made him pause. "Maxwell?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Be careful. The American government is a dangerous group. Promise to be careful."

Max was in total shock. All he could say to the uncharacteristic remark, "Yeah, sure. Of course. You, uh, be careful too. Sounds like you have quite the situation on your hands."

There was a rough sound somewhere between a hacking cough and a chuckle, Coldhardt trying to remain stoic when he wanted to laugh ruefully. It was so...odd, coming from the enigma of a man that it worried Max.

"Sir, is everything all right? You're acting a little...strangely. I know your team has some problems, but are _you_ all right?"

There was a long silence. When the Irish man spoke again, it was with his same old ironclad resolve. "No, I'm not. But I will be. I won't be a victim so easily. Take care, Maxwell."

"You too, sir." With that, the call ended. Max hung up, feeling oddly proud of himself, and at the same time worried for Alec and for his old boss. He returned to the room where Gibbs the other NCIS agents stood.

"Got anything?" Gibbs asked without prelude.

"Yep. Colleague of mine will handle the whole thing."

"That's it?" Tony raised an incredulous eyebrow. "We just sit and wait?"

"That's exactly what we do."

* * *

**The Talent is what Coldhardt calls his team, and what they often call themselves. I'll try to update this soon. Please review!**


	18. Endings and Beginnings

**There are no words to describe how happy I am to be finishing this story. Considering this has lost most of its readers, I doubt you'll care, but finally our tale has come to a close, fair readers. I glossed over the events of the **_**Thieves Like Us **_**part of the storyline because I never should have gotten into the in the first place and nobody but me knows those books anyway, but if you do, know that the dialogue during Alec's escape comes directly from **_**The Bloodline Cipher **_**in some cases, and I give all credit for Coldhardt, the Talent, and any of the situations used before Alec goes home to their rightful owner, the wonderful author Stephen Cole. **

**I did my best to do right by the readers to end this story. I hope it lives up to your expectations.**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own NCIS or any of its characters; CBS does. I don't own the book **_**Thieves Like Us **_**or its two sequels, they belong to their author, Stephen Cole, as do Jonah, his boss, and his friends, as well as a good chunk of the dialogue and events in this chapter up to the point where Alec goes back to D.C. I do own Alec, the gang and anyone/thing you don't know.**

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Alec was less than pleased with what happened after she and English had decided to run like hell. They had met up with some strange girl named Maya who Alec sensed something extremely off about. The girl was weird, to say the least. Maya and Jonah had gone running again, and Alec had struggled to catch up. They reached some large room, and before Alec could follow, English had spun on his heel and told her to stay out of things before he turned around again and ran into the room.

Too bad Alec was never very good at following direct orders, or really any sort of orders, as both Landon and Gibbs had realized.

She slipped into the room after the two, but stayed in a shadowed corner, choosing not to get involved in the multiple fights she saw occurring. Especially when the guns were drawn, Alec kept to herself and just observed. Sorry, but she didn't much care for being shot, especially when trying to help people she didn't even know. If one was looking for a hero, then they weren't going to find it with her. Besides, Jonah had told her not to help, anyway. Still, she was rooting for the group of teens who she assumed was English's team.

There was a large fight going on, and Alec did her best to follow along with what must have been a big revelation concerning an old Irishman with snow white hair and cold blue eyes and a bunch of other, similarly aged old guys. She didn't much care to concern herself with the politics of it all; in this business, it didn't do you well to know more than necessary. That either meant that you had blackmail or you had a target on your head. In Alec's case, she would be slapping a giant bull's-eye on her forehead. It was in her best interest if she didn't know what everyone was screaming about in the middle of the huge room.

She was drawn from her reveries by a loud, piercing gunshot that struck one of the men in the neck. Resisting the urge to gag, she averted her eyes and tried to ignore the sound of him choking on his blood, the sound of it burbling and frothing from his main arteries and veins in great crimson spurts.

When pandemonium broke out, her eyes were still downcast. It wasn't until a girl's head cracked against the stone floor that she looked up again, shocked to find English kneeling on the girl's back, holding her down, while a pretty girl with skin the color of milk chocolate stood next to him. Alec was more than a little surprised when English then grabbed the girl, who was presumably one of his comrades, in a fierce kiss.

That _was unexpected_, she thought. _Who knew English had it in him?_ She barely resisted making a loud comment to the couple, considering that would completely break her cover. But to her surprise, someone took over her role for her.

A boy about Cal's age in grungy goth clothing with black hair in a ponytail and a scraggly goatee watched the couple derisively. "Gee, guys, that's a big surprise to no one at all." Alec was surprised to hear his American accent. "But if you guys are planning on going further, I'd wait till Patch is around. You can sell him tickets."

Vaguely, Alec wondered who Patch could be and how much of a pervert he was. Her guesses? A member of their team who was for some reason not present; and very.

The girl abruptly stopped kissing Jonah and said, "Patch is-"

"Alive, we are told," said a strikingly beautiful blond girl in an odd accent that wasn't quite French. She helped the Irishman stand; Alec could only assume that this was English's leader.

Only through the silence in the room could she hear Jonah whisper to the girl in his arms, "It's true. Maya says Patch is okay!" Huh, so what had happened to Patch the Pervert, then?

"He was when we left him," said the girl Alec had been introduced to as Maya. "But we must return, and quickly." Considering Alec didn't know who was returning where, she wasn't quite sure if she was supposed to be listening to this segment, and considered becoming very interested in the destruction that the expensive room had undergone.

"But how _can_ he be okay?" asked Jonah's girlfriend of him. "Jonah, you said-"

"Maya is an uncommonly skilled member of the Order," the Irishman interjected; geez, was Jonah's girlfriend ever allowed to finish a sentence? Considering it sounded like a weirdo cult was now being discussed, Alec took her chance to admire the damage the poor room had taken. She continued to do so until it appeared that the group was exiting the room. It was then that she slunk from the shadows, intent on following at a safe distance. That sentiment was crushed by the elderly Irishman.

Without turning his back, the man who Alec had heard referred to as Coldhardt stopped. "Miss Broekhart, if you would be so kind as to join us?" His younger companions turned to him confusedly, while Jonah looked surprised and looked around for Alec.

Okay, that was unexpected. She stepped forward, her footsteps loud and echoing on the stone floor, drawing the group to turn and watch her.

Nervously, she waved her hand. "Uh, hey everybody. Don't mind me, I'm just hitchhiking back to the States."

Coldhardt raised a brow. "Hitchhiking, yes. We'd best return you to Landon soon; he seems to be quite worried about you."

Even more unexpected. "You know Landon? Eh, all of you crime bosses seem to know each other; I shouldn't be so surprised after all of this time."

Jonah was too busy looking from the door and then back at Alec. "I told you to stay outside! What the hell are you doing in here?"

"I got lonely, English; sue me. I didn't get involved, just like you asked. In fact, I found myself to be quite..._disinterested_ in the whole situation." She sent a meaningful look at Coldhardt, who nodded, content with her promise to helpfully "forget" what she had seen and heard.

Choosing to ignore the confused stares from Jonah's team, she followed happily after Coldhardt. "So you know Landon well?"

"You could say that." Alec noticed the slightly annoyed look in his eyes, but said nothing. Due to that, she was surprised that he continued speaking to her. "He is an old employee of mine."

The grungy goth froze in his tracks. "No shit, she works for a member of one of your old teams?"

Coldhardt's head moved; whether it was in affirmation or he just had an itch, Alec wasn't sure. All she knew was that her conversation was over.

Alec did her best to ignore the odd situations that followed, and resisted asking why Coldhardt was whisked away to God knew where as soon as they exited the premises. Jonah and team had a long, weird conversation with Maya in which Alec learned that English's girlfriend was named Tye, the blond girl was Con, and the goth was Motti. She stood off in the distance and watched as Maya left and the group shared a teary, awkward, familial embrace. In her chest, her heart ached for that same sort of camaraderie that she shared with her own team. She jolted when a voice called from inside the cave, the entrance of which was the setting of the hug.

"You sods gonna leave me in here all day or what?"

It was then that Alec was hastily introduced to Patch the Pervert, as she had dubbed him, a one-eyed fifteen year old locksmith with a thick London accent that could have given Cal a run for his money. She was baffled by the leer he sent at her until Motti clapped a hand on her shoulder, saying, "Don't get too freaked out, he does that to everyone he meets who's of the female persuasion; hell, even a few males!" Patch had objected loudly and angrily, but couldn't harm Motti as he wished because he had apparently blown up his hands, which was why he had not been involved in the great, climactic fight that Alec had ignored.

With great relief Alec heard the arrival of the helicopter Coldhardt had commissioned for her. It was to take her to the nearest large city, where she would then board a plane to D.C. It was going to be a very long flight across the Pacific with a layover in California, but at least she would be going home.

She made an awkward farewell to Coldhardt's Talent, who were not leaving with her, but instead taking their own mode of transportation to wherever they were going – she didn't bother asking about either, because frankly it wasn't her business. You didn't poke your nose into others' business in the underworld.

Jonah gave her an unsure handshake. Alec nodded at him. "See ya around, English." He smiled briefly. "Yeah, America; no more getting kidnapped to be sold in an auction, you hear?"

Alec shook her head with a grin. "Aw, but it was such fun this time around!" Jonah chuckled and lightly slugged her on the shoulder. She glanced over said shoulder to the landing copter, and then looked back at her one-time comrades of a sort. "Well, good luck, kiddos. I gotta go appease the American government, but good luck in whatever you guys plan on doing next. Perv – I mean, Patch, hope your hands heal up all right." Motti and Jonah snickered at her slip up. She turned to leave, and then looked back at Jonah.

"By the way, English? Be good to your girl there, because she is way out of your league."

The Talent chuckled with the exception of Jonah, who gaped at her and tried to formulate a response. Before he could, she was off climbing into the helicopter and chatting up the pilot while jamming a helmet over her head. She waved jauntily from the copter's window, and then she was gone.

All was silent amongst the Talent, until Motti breached a question that they had all wanted to ask since they had first seen her.

"Okay, who the hell _was_ that chick?"

* * *

Gibbs was not happy to be harboring criminals in his home, even if they were just a pack of teenage boys who were holed up in his basement. He had allowed Landon to remain in his kitchen, but both he and the criminal had agreed that it was best to keep the boys from anywhere that the public could see them.

Landon had received a short call from his "colleague" telling him that Alec would be taking a plane into D.C. and arriving in what would now be about a half hour. How she was able to fly commercially without being arrested, he would never know, but then again these criminals had their ways.

So Gibbs and his team made their way through the hectic airport, Landon walking alongside them with a cool and sophisticated air that made Gibbs want to punch him. The criminal had left Zannen in charge of the rest of his team, so hopefully Gibbs's basement – and his current boat – would be completely intact upon their return.

The group waited for the plane to arrive in various states of anxiety. Nobody knew what was going to occur when Alec arrived – would she stay with NCIS, or return to the criminals?

It was a little surprising to find the teenager walking into the terminal as if there was nothing amiss – as if she wasn't a wanted criminal with a BOLO on her head stating that she had escaped government custody and was possibly dangerous.

As if she didn't have a highly probable chance of being sent to prison, despite the best efforts of her two different – severely different – teams.

As if she didn't have a huge decision to be made.

When her eyes landed on the groups', they surprisingly met Gibbs's first. Gibbs didn't know what this exactly entailed, but chalked it up to her being afraid of his reaction more than Landon's.

Alec approached the agents and criminal with guarded steps, tension suddenly filling her previously lethargic body.

"Hi," she mumbled, ducking her head so her hair fell into he eyes, saving her from having to meet the inquiring and probably judgmental gazes. "I'm, uh, sorry about what's happened. Though in my defense, I didn't really know I was being, um, tricked. I wouldn't have run if I had known I was being lied to. And, uh, I didn't guess it was a trick till I was attacked, and that was a little bit late, I guess."

_Really, Alec, you _guess_? What are you, dense?_

To her dismay – or was it relief? – Gibbs opted to just stare at her with an unreadable look in the arctic wasteland of his eyes. He tossed his head lightly to the side, canting it in indication of the area behind him.

"C'mon," he said quietly with a hint of a smile gracing the corners of his mouth, which belied the turmoil his eyes held. He spoke the same way he always had to the team, to her, and if she hadn't known better she would have thought he was calling the team after him as he strode out of the bullpen to a crime scene, or to interrogate a criminal. Well, in a way he was going to interrogate a criminal.

Her.

Alec swallowed visibly and followed after the agent; Tony and Ziva moved to walk behind her on either side. With trepidation and a tinge of hurt she realized that this was to ensure she didn't try to run away.

Nobody said a word. Not even Abby, who had joined the team to meet her, would speak.

The silence was becoming increasingly uncomfortable when a hand landed on her shoulder. Alec was sure she must have jumped a mile high before she twisted her head violently to the right, craning upward to see the tall figure that the hand belonged to.

Landon looked down on her, the skin around his eyes crinkling lightly as he smiled at her. "It's going to be okay, kid," he murmured.

She smiled tightly, knowing the expression was forced and grim. "I don't even want to know how you came to be with this lot." She froze for a moment in terror, but quickly resumed walking as to not set off Tony and Ziva, who were so full of tension they seemed ready to spring at a moment's notice.

"You aren't..." she trailed off and tried to subtly glance around to ascertain who had their attention on the pair of criminals. Finding nobody listening too closely to their conversation, she leaned in closer to her original leader and whispered, "You're not, you know, incarcerated or anything, right?"

Landon shook his head briefly. "Not at the moment, no. We agreed to work together to get you back. But that could all change, it seems. I have no more of an idea of what's to happen next than you do, my girl."

The rest of the trip was held in silence. It was nice to have Landon their as support, but Alec still felt this need to get back into Gibbs' good graces.

_Like a puppy who did wrong and wants to please their master,_ she thought cynically.

When they arrived at Gibbs's home the silence remained. Alec, for one, was simply surprised that she hadn't been taken immediately to headquarters to be interrogated and then shipped off to prison.

She followed Gibbs into his home, noticing how the familiar atmosphere and decor did nothing to quiet the fluttering butterflies rioting in her gut.

_Take a good look now, because it's the last time you'll see it._

Alec was blindsided when the basement door flew open and she was tackled to the ground.

_Oh, Lord, not again,_ she thought, expecting to be taken prisoner once more. But that didn't happen, unless being hugged to death by her best friend counted as being prisoner.

"Roland!" she exclaimed as the boy, a man, really, squeezed her in an uncomfortably tight manner, the ungraceful meeting with the floor having knocked the air out of her lungs and leaving her desperate for a breath. "Can't breathe here!"

The pressure alleviated, just enough that she wouldn't pass out.

"Missed ya," he muttered, smiling down at her from under his unkempt hair. His eyes glittered like some odd jewels.

Alec didn't get the chance to stand before the rest of the guys piled on, ending with a heap of bodies lying on the linoleum floor of Gibbs's kitchen. Only Zannen stayed back, moving to stand in his ever-present place next to Landon. He gave her a small smile and nod of recognition, but made no move to join the group. She nodded back at him, accepting his decision.

That would always be their relationship, it seemed, skirting around one another, restraining themselves from acting too friendly for fear that it might become something that they couldn't lose even if they wanted to – something that would hurt when it was gone.

Gibbs cleared his throat loudly with tangible annoyance as he waited for the group to regain their composure. Alec didn't even bother asking what both of her teams were doing together in Gibbs's house. It was all too surreal – if she spoke of it, it might disappear.

After everyone had gotten situated in the living room, sitting on the sofa or one of the kitchen chairs that had been dragged in or opting for the floor or to just stand in Gibbs and Landon's cases, the discussion began. And oh, it wasn't very comfortable.

Alec did her best to give an abridged version of the events that had transpired, leaving out all names of the people she had encountered in the Philippines and helpfully forgetting just what happened once she and some kid escaped their confines. In fact, she seemed to have forgotten a lot as she glossed over just how she was taken on a helicopter to the airport, never once mentioning how she even got on the helicopter.

Gibbs would have asked, but he knew she wouldn't tell him, and he hated that. He hated that she would keep these huge secrets from him. The government always wanted to know as much as possible, so they never quite trained their agents to accept that it is sometimes best to stay out of things knowledge of which could get you killed. After all, that was something that was only taught in the Underworld.

And when it came time to make the Big Decision, Alec wished she was anywhere else in the world, even back in the dark room in the Philippines with English. She had known in the beginning that one day this day would come, but she had hoped that if she didn't think about it, it wouldn't happen and she wouldn't have to decide.

"So what are we going to do?" By the way Tony said it, Alec took that "we" more as a "you."

She tried using the plan she had been forming. "You know, I had this idea. You know how there are child labor laws and everything, right? But NCIS still had me working adult hours everyday with you guys, and they didn't do much in the way of schooling. So we should try to tell them that I need some time off from work each year, you know, my accumulated time from working adult hours all the time. So we use that time and I go with the gang, and then come back when the time's up, and then-"

"It would never work," Gibbs interjected. Alec frowned.

"Don't shoot it down so fast. I mean-"

"It wouldn't work because the government doesn't know about the Philippines or any of this, and they never will know. They only know that a criminal given the opportunity to work with NCIS to avoid jail time ran away, and unless you want to tell all to dispute that, you're going to remain a wanted criminal. And I know you won't talk."

Alec's eyes narrowed nervously. "What are you saying?"

Gibbs's expression remained cold, but his eyes were somber. "I'm saying that you need to go back with Landon."

Abby and Tony cried out as Ziva's eyebrows flew up in surprise and Tim made to stand.

It felt as if she had been stabbed in the heart. "What? I mean, I'm sure we could work something out."

Landon shook his head. "Government and criminals, kiddo. The two will never get along. They're opposing forces, working for two different goals. The government exists to stop us – they aren't going to change their ways, because that would defy everything they stand for, what they do. We can't ever come to an agreement."

"So she should just leave?" Abby asked unbelievingly.

"Yes," Gibbs replied in a cold, flat voice that made Abby and Alec both flinch. He aimed his look straight at Alec. "Get your things and leave. Now. I'm giving you an hour to leave, and that's being generous. If any of you are still here by then, I'm arresting you all. Got it?"

Tears pricking in her eyes, Alec nodded numbly and all but raced up the stairs to pack her things. She was done in twenty minutes, so desperate was she to leave before she broke down sobbing.

She didn't look back as she left the house, flanked and surrounded by her gang.

None of the members of NCIS looked at her as she left.

Nobody said goodbye.

* * *

For a year that moment smarted for Alec. It was a sore that continued to fester because she refused to address it was there. It was Zannen who forced her to talk about it.

They had been at one of Landon's many homes, this one a large estate in Australia. As they watched the rest of the gang fool around in the pool, splashing each other and making a ruckus, the pair sat on recliners by each other and talked.

"He did it for you, you know," Zannen said.

This surprised Alec, because they had previously been discussing a television show they had all taken to watching. "Who did what?"

"Gibbs. The NCIS Idiot. He told you to leave for your sake."

Nobody had spoken about that ordeal since it had occurred, so Alec was more than surprised to hear Zannen suddenly address the subject.

Before she could speak, he continued. "He knew it hurt you to go, but he didn't want to make you choose, so he chose for you. He was protecting you, in a way."

This she had known for quite some while, but she had refused to even think about the events of last year and had not yet acknowledged what she had already subconsciously realized.

"I know," she said in a raw, hoarse voice. "Why are you telling me this?"

He paused for a long, pregnant moment. "I wanted to reconcile that, to get it all off my chest. I didn't want to go into this with any lingering thoughts about the past."

"Go into what?" she asked carefully.

"This."

And in that moment, he laid a hand on the edge of her chair to balance himself, leaned forward, and kissed her.

They ignored the whistles and catcalls coming from the pool.

* * *

Ten years after the incident with the criminal, as the group at NCIS had come to think of it, something odd happened.

An agent by the name Patterson was bringing in a series of new Probies fresh out of training and ready for their first runs as field agents. Gibbs didn't bother paying attention as Patterson read off the name of the Probie who was assigned to be with his team. He didn't want another member of his team – they worked well together, Tony, McGee, Ziva and himself. They didn't need someone else.

So he didn't think anything of it when he heard Patterson introduce Agent Samantha Phillips, and he ignored the situation when he heard her tell Patterson to just call her Sam.

He did start to pay attention when he caught a glimpse of her through his peripheral vision.

She was of medium height with a sturdy build and white, pale skin that would burn after an hour in the sun. Her hair was a chocolate brown cut into a short, professional bob and her eyes were a dark blue.

But that wasn't what caught his attention. No, what he noticed was when her bangs shifted to reveal a glimpse of a small, thin white scar above one eye and another tucked beneath her right ear, and a few raised marks on her jaw that must have been covered in make-up.

What he noticed was how familiar her face was.

She smiled at Patterson as he bid her goodbye, shaking her head lightly as she did so. He was offering to find her an issue of the Probie book.

"Got my own," she said in a familiar voice, pulling a wrinkled and faded copy of the book in question from an equally ratty messenger bag that had Gibbs's gut doing flips.

When Patterson had left, she turned and looked Gibbs directly in the eyes. The color of her eyes was different, but the look in them was the same.

"Phillips, huh?" he asked with a raised brow.

She nodded, making her hair shift once more. "Of course. That's my name, after all." He may have believed her if it weren't for the huge smile adorning her features. She laid her copy of the Probie Book on her desk – because it was _her _desk, nobody had ever stopped thinking of it as such – and the front cover flopped open. It was there purposely, as a testament from an agent who had finally returned to the fold.

On the title page in the unmistakable handwriting of one Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was a warning to the reader and a hangman.

In much fresher ink, someone had added to the drawing. There was another figure next to the hangman, and it had a hand outstretched giving the hangman an unmistakable gesture:

A head slap.

* * *

**Finally, 'tis over! You will never understand just how good this feels right now. This is one of my longest lasting stories, after all, and from beginning to end is a living testament to how much my writing skills have progressed over time. Alec is a Mary-Sue and not very original, but I'm glad to have been able to realize that and move on from that phase in my writing.**

**Thank you so much to everybody who has reviewed, favorited, or alerted this story. It means the world to me.**

**Fare thee well, kind readers, **

**From your faithful author,**

**~ Carlough**


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